


Through No Fault of Her Own

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23232148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: The team of Detective Jim Ellison and Dr Blair Sandburg are asked for their assistance in solving a particularly brutal rape and murder case.  Little do they realise that it will bring back distressing memories and figures from the past which will affect them both, particularly Blair.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Comments: 52
Kudos: 30





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Jim and Blair are together and working at the PD, Blair having received his doctorate on a subject other than Sentinels. And Sen Too doesn't happen!   
> Spoilers for the ep. 'Iceman'.

**Chapter 1: Introduction:**  


**Jenny:**  


Jenny McAlister couldn’t have been happier. She had just learned that she had been chosen to be the student helper for her favourite teacher, and couldn’t wait to begin her duties. Dr Blair Sandburg was possibly the most attractive man she had ever seen, and definitely the best teacher at Rainier, and the fact that he was a kind and gentle soul only added to his attraction. Oh yes, she was lucky indeed, knowing how many others had coveted the informal but potentially beneficial role. The rewards might not be financial, but with a professor like Blair, she knew that her references would be great for her resume, providing she did a reasonable job for him, and the extra _gratis_ tuition would help her immensely in her efforts to gain her Masters in anthropology. 

For sure, she had cause to be pleased, and there was an extra bounce to her step as she walked back to her shabby accommodation in an area close to Rainier’s campus. 

After all, she came from a less-than-wealthy background, even though she was immensely appreciative of her parents’ efforts in providing not only a loving, safe and solid family environment, but also the whole-hearted support she needed to achieve the standard of education to which her conspicuous intelligence entitled her. And because she fully understood the sacrifices they had made for her in order for her to achieve her goals, she was eager to apprise them of her progress. 

Jenny was the offspring of an African American mom and a Scottish father, and as such considered herself to be incredibly fortunate to benefit from the very best of characteristics both physical and mental with which her parents had gifted her, even though she was far from vain. She had an unblemished, café-au-lait complexion that many girls would be prepared to spend a fortune on to acquire artificially, and dark brown wavy hair that shone like polished walnut. She had inherited her father’s regular features, and her mother’s tall, slender build, such that if she had had the inclination, a career in modelling wouldn’t have been an unreasonable goal. But she had no desire to follow that path. She wanted to study humanity in all its forms in an attempt to understand where she and her fellow human beings came from, and the very best way to do that, in her opinion, was to study anthropology under the guidance of Dr Blair Sandburg. 

As she walked, clutching her bookbag to her chest, she allowed herself to contemplate her teacher. Like many other students, both female and male it had to be said, she frequently daydreamed about the young professor, and had tried to find out as much about his personal life as she could. His academic career was easy to access, but for the most part, details of his private life remained intriguingly vague. She knew that he was considered to be a genuine wunderkind, having started studying at Rainier at the tender age of barely sixteen years, and had achieved both Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees by age twenty two. It had taken him a little longer to achieve his doctorate; which had occurred only the previous year; because she understood that he had changed his dissertation topic after several years of trying to find a suitable subject for his preferred one, and that in itself had been a cause for some rumour. His Master’s thesis was an incredibly insightful and authoritative piece on the subject of tribal sentinels past and present, and Jenny knew that Blair had hoped to find a modern example of such a gifted individual. 

However, apparently his search had proved to be fruitless, so he had changed topic instead to one concerning the dynamics of the closed society of the Police Department, and he had submitted and successfully defended that paper. But he still worked with Cascade’s PD in the capacity of official consultant, and, furthermore, still lived with the detective he had partnered during his data-gathering ride-along. 

Hence the reason for conjecture in more ways than one. 

Jenny knew that some of her friends – at least, the ones with more active imaginations – conjectured that Detective Jim Ellison was actually a sentinel, but that Dr Sandburg had realised that it would be unethical to write about him, or, more importantly, expose him to public scrutiny. On the other hand, the more prosaic amongst them simply assumed that they had become lovers and life partners, which was hardly surprising considering the pair’s undoubted attractiveness despite their dissimilarities. Blair was fairly short in stature – at around five feet six or seven slightly shorter than she herself – but he was beautiful in a purely masculine way, with those huge blue eyes, high cheekbones and kissable mouth topped with a mop of dark auburn curls. Add to that his energy, intelligence and generous nature, and it was a given that he attracted attention like moths to a flame even if he seemed to be totally oblivious to the phenomenon. 

And as for Ellison, although Jenny had only met him a couple of times, she considered him to be built like a Greek god. Tall, buff and classically good looking, they did make a very handsome couple, if indeed that was what they were. And it didn’t hurt that they interacted so well, their affection for each other plain to see in their expressions. 

But when all was said and done, Jenny didn’t presume to judge them one way or the other. For sure, a dalliance with Blair would be the stuff of dreams, but she knew he was far too ethical to put the moves on one of his students, even if he and Ellison weren’t an item, so all she could do was let her imagination run free. 

Smiling to herself, she anticipated returning to her rather shabby, shared apartment so she could update her roommate on the good news about her appointment. Amber Larkin was a mature student who had returned to her studies at the Medical School after taking a time-out in order to build up her finances. She was pretty, vivacious and a good companion, although she was reticent about her past and Jenny felt no compunction to push her on something she obviously preferred to keep to herself. It wasn’t Jenny’s business, and she felt no affront at the lack of personal disclosure; but was just grateful for Amber’s friendship. 

Then again, she had been a good source of both gossip and information about Dr Sandburg, who she had known previously, so Jenny was only too glad to be the recipient of her benevolent and freely-offered opinions. 

At that point in her ruminations, she arrived at her dingy apartment block, letting herself in and almost skipping up the stairs to the third floor apartment she called her temporary home. 

Hopefully Amber would be there already so that Jenny could share her good luck with her friend, and then she intended to call her parents.  


\---------------------------  


**Blair:**  


Back in his office, Blair smiled softly and shook his head in wry amusement as he closed the door behind his newly-appointed student helper. A truly caring and kind hearted soul, he was only too glad to witness another’s happiness, even though he didn’t really understand the apparent extent of Jenny McAlister’s overt excitement. From past, personal experience he knew it was only a somewhat menial position after all, even if he now truly appreciated the assistance, and it didn’t occur to him that it was his own personality that made the offer so very tempting. Nevertheless, he reckoned that he had made a good choice, knowing that Jenny was both bright and enthusiastic on the subject of anthropology, and he had no doubt whatsoever that she would be of immense value to him as he continued to juggle his responsibilities both to Rainier and to Jim and the PD. 

Although he had finally achieved his doctorate, he didn’t expect to be offered tenure any time soon, since he had also accepted a position with the PD as an official consultant on a case-by-case basis. He was therefore more than grateful to have been granted a role as adjunct Professor of Anthropology at Rainier, even though it meant that his voluntary workload hadn’t diminished any over the years of riding and working with Jim. 

Not that he resented it at all, purely for that very reason. 

Detective Jim Ellison. Sentinel, cop _extraordinaire,_ and the love of Blair’s life. 

At the thoughts of his partner in all things, Blair’s smile widened as his eyes sparkled in eager anticipation. He was due to meet with Jim for a late lunch, after which he intended to accompany the detective in the field as Jim wanted to follow up on some leads for one of his latest cases. It would probably involve Jim wanting to use his senses, and although he had a good grasp of them now, having learned to control them almost effortlessly, he still preferred to have Blair alongside on the very remote off-chance that something might trigger a zone. Not that it had happened for some time now, but why risk it if his guide and lover was willing and able to be there for him? 

And Blair was hardly going to pass up the opportunity of riding with his lover when all was said and done. Not that they behaved with anything less than decorum in the bullpen and on the job, but just enjoying each other’s presence was pleasure enough. And even though they were both aware that their friends and colleagues almost certainly assumed that they were an item, they had never come out and admitted it simply because they didn’t want to cause problems for Simon Banks. What the captain didn’t know officially, he didn’t have to act upon, although as a civilian, the restrictions preventing SOs riding together didn’t really apply to Blair anyway. Besides, what they did in the privacy of their own home was no one’s business but their own, so why rock the boat unnecessarily? Just as by mutual agreement Jim, Blair and Simon had never revealed the truth about Jim’s sentinel abilities. Why risk giving the bad guys ideas about trying to take down what they might well perceive as a ‘superhero’? And if others in the department figured that Jim had some sort of ‘edge’ which Blair helped him use, then so be it. They all benefitted from his excellent arrest and conviction record, so why question it? 

Humming cheerfully to himself, Blair collected together the papers and books he needed and stuffed them into his backpack, pausing only long enough to lock up his office safely behind him. It wasn’t big, by any means, but it was a great deal better than the tiny space he had shared with many artefacts in the storeroom he had ‘acquired’ unofficially as a grad student, and he was grateful for the improvement. He was never going to be popular with some individuals in the university’s senior administration body and Board of Governors, such as Chancellor Edwards; Blair being far too outspoken, politically active and energetic for her comfort; but his students, clerical staff, the majority of his peers and particularly his friend and mentor Dr Eli Stoddard appreciated his contribution to academia very much, so he was generally content with his lot. 

He exited Hargrove Hall, waving cheerfully and greeting friends and acquaintances as he passed, then trotted across the parking lot to his beloved classic Volvo, with which Jim still hadn’t been able to persuade him to part, and threw his backpack onto the back seat. Climbing into the driver’s seat, he spared another thought for Jenny, and grinned in happy anticipation of telling Jim about his choice of helper. He knew that Jim had met and liked Jenny, and Blair recognised that, deep down, he was always going to covet Jim’s approval. It might well be a barely-acknowledged symptom of his long-standing lack of self-esteem, but it was what it was, and it didn’t trouble him too much except under exceptional circumstances when he couldn’t either brush the issue aside or hide his discomfort under a veneer of joviality and fast-talking. 

Quickly shutting down that particular unsettling train of thought, he turned the ignition. The Volvo started without complaint, and he set off for the PD, ready and eager to meet up with his sentinel lover again.  


\------------------------  


**Jim:**  


Pushing back from his desk, Jim scanned the monitor screen in front of him, then hit ‘Print’. Linking his hands, he stretched his powerful arms out and rolled his head on his shoulders to ease the stiffness of sitting for too long at his keyboard. However, despite the small discomfort, he grinned smugly to himself in satisfaction, having finally finished the paperwork on the case he and Blair had just closed. For sure, the report would have been completed far sooner, and with far better readability if his partner had been there to do it for him; Blair being far more IT savvy and literate than he; but for all that Jim was quietly proud that he had managed to complete the task himself. 

It wasn’t as if he _couldn’t_ do it – he had a college degree after all – but he freely acknowledged that he was an ‘action man’ by nature, preferring to leave sedentary occupations like typing up and composing reports to his uber-smart and easy-going partner. 

As he crossed to the printer to retrieve the hard copy, his handsome face creased in a small, grim frown as he shuffled the papers together. It had been a bitch of a case, involving embezzlement and skulduggery at the highest levels in City Hall, even including a contract killing, which is why the case had been passed immediately up to Major Crimes. Or, more specifically, to the team of Ellison and Sandburg in the hope that they would weave their expected magic and utilise their special skills to solve the crime. It hadn’t been easy for sure, and had taken the best efforts they could offer both individually and together, but they had finally closed the case just the previous day. 

As he returned to his desk to check over the report for a final time before signing it and handing it over for Simon’s perusal, Jim had cause to be grateful yet again for the unstinting backup and support he received from his guide and now lover. Oh, he knew well enough that he was a good detective in his own right, heightened senses notwithstanding. He was well endowed with a cop’s gut instinct, and there was nothing wrong at all with his investigative ability. But when his sound policework was combined with Blair’s razor-sharp intellect and ability to think outside the box, fitting apparently unconnected pieces together to come up with sometimes bizarre – but nearly always correct – theories, the pair was well-nigh unbeatable. 

Yes indeed, Jim was incredibly proud of his lover’s contribution; even as he sometimes worried that the young man was still working at the same manic levels he used to as a grad student and unofficial ride-along. He might well be official now at the U and the PD, and be pursuing both careers most successfully to date, but Jim knew he had to watch out for signs of burn-out and act upon them quickly in order to ensure that Blair step back and relax a little, because for sure, left to himself his lover would simply work until he dropped. 

Continuing on that line of thought, Jim smiled knowingly again as he considered the best means at his disposal to enable his young lover to relax. Blair was undoubtedly the best and most generous lover he had ever had, or ever intended to have, even though his good fortune never ceased to amaze him. He admitted to himself that initially the kid had irritated the heck out of him, and Simon too, and he had only put up with the constant bounce and chatter because he needed the help the grad student could give him in controlling the senses. However, it wasn’t long before Jim realised he had gotten used to his hyper bundle of energy, even if said bundle of energy consistently flouted House Rules and got in his face whenever he thought that Jim needed it. For his own good, of course. 

And when Blair had finally sat him down and shyly admitted that he wasn’t going to pursue the sentinel paper after all, and gave his reasons for pulling the plug, Jim realised just how much his young roommate truly loved him. Oh, he admitted to himself that he had hated the very idea of being Blair’s subject, even if it was their deal at the outset, but learning that he was being let off the hook had been a huge relief. Blair had told him that he realised that he had lost his objectivity some time before, and that it wouldn’t be ethical for him to use Jim as his Primary Subject after all. And not only that, but it would hardly take a genius to put two and two together and come up with the conclusion that Jim actually was a sentinel. Why else would Blair be not only riding with him, but living under his roof? And there was no way Blair wanted to risk Jim being ‘outed’ like that, for his own safety. 

Even as he gratefully embraced the profound relief offered by Blair’s sacrifice, Jim had felt a surge of guilt for the young man’s failed dreams, and had said as much. However, once again Blair had surprised him when he had smiled softly and reassured him. 

“It’s OK, man, really. Don’t worry about me, Jim. I’ve already spoken to my Diss Committee and they have agreed my change of subject. And to be honest, I think they were relieved. I’ve been deliberately dilatory in handing anything in, and I know they were getting impatient. And it’s not as if they really liked the subject anyway. The alternative one I’ve offered on the ‘Thin Blue Line – Closed Society’ theme actually pleased them no end, especially as I’ve been working on it in my spare time, so I already have something to hand in. 

“And it’s not as if I’m not writing about you anyway. It’s just that it won’t be in the form of a dissertation, but more of a self-help manual for you and others like you, and you can remain completely anonymous. I’m still getting everything I ever wanted in studying a real, live sentinel. I’ll just get my doctorate on another subject, is all.” 

Thoroughly awed and humbled by Blair’s words, Jim had plucked up the courage to respond in the way he wanted to, and prayed that Blair wanted also, unless his senses were mistaken. Slowly he had reached for the young man, gently wrapping him in his arms and pulling Blair towards him. Although he could tell that Blair was a little nervous, he didn’t pull back, but gradually relaxed in Jim’s embrace until they were cuddled close together. And then Jim had lowered his face and kissed his partner; something he’d been wanting to do for some time. And the taste had been wonderful. Finally able to savour the sweetness of his guide’s perfect mouth, he had groaned in delight, and from there things had moved quickly. 

To be sure, there had been little finesse that first time – both men caught up in the throes of pure lust and long-desired indulgence. They had barely time to loosen their clothing before they came together to collapse in sated satisfaction in a tangle of limbs on the sofa, but it had been mind-blowing for all that. 

And both men had known that they were exactly where they were meant to be, and that they would never be alone again. 

In the days that followed, Jim acknowledged that everything hadn’t exactly fallen immediately into place for them. There had been many discussions – even knock-down drag-out arguments – about the best way forward, but at the end of the day they had come to a more than amicable agreement. Blair had convinced Jim that he had everything he ever wanted, including Jim himself, and Jim had had to accept his passionate declarations. Blair had achieved his goal in the granting of his PhD, and had also received his ultimate reward in a totally devoted sentinel lover. 

And as for Jim, he had the partner of his dreams, both in life and on the job, and he knew that that same lover would protect his identity to his dying day if it was in his ability to do so. 

Not only that, but Jim discovered that his Blair was possibly the most adventurous and innovative bed-partner he had ever had, and he most certainly wasn’t complaining about that. It simply motivated him to be as careful and appreciative a lover as he could be, and as yet neither of them had had any cause for complaint. 

Yes, life was good, and Jim knew it.  


\-------------------------------  


**Simon:**  


With a disgruntled growl, Simon sat up in his seat and shoved aside the latest pile of memos he had been studying. Yet more bureaucratic bullshit, in his not-so-humble opinion, but it had to be read and assessed, and he was glad to have gotten the task over and done with, for today at least. Pushing his wire-rimmed spectacles up his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, massaging the area in a bid to relieve the nagging headache with which such tedious paperwork invariably left him. 

After a few moments, he rose to his feet, intending to help himself to a cup of good coffee from his private stash, glancing out of his office window to the bullpen beyond as he did so. His gaze came to rest on the imposing figure of his lead detective, and Simon paused a little in his actions in order to study the man more closely. 

Ellison was reading through some papers on his own desk, and had just reached for a pen with which to sign them. Simon suspected that it was the finished report of Ellison and Sandburg’s latest solved case, and he had to chuckle softly to himself at the realisation that Jim had had to complete the task on his own. Although Jim’s reports were invariably succinct and sufficient for purpose, when Blair completed them – which was more often than not if Jim had his way – they were much more interesting and imaginative in both crafting and content. 

Pouring his mug of coffee, Simon returned to his desk, his thoughts remaining on his best team as he sipped his well-earned treat. 

Simon was well aware that he was the envy of the PD in having Jim and Blair in his department. Their arrest and conviction record was second to none, and the fact that Blair was now working officially in the capacity of consultant as well as Jim’s regular partner had relieved Simon of the constant headache that coming up with reasons for Blair’s apparently never-ending ‘temporary’ ride-along had caused him. Certainly he had resented the imposition to begin with, and he wasn’t proud of himself for that. But the fact remained that initially he had been less than accepting of Jim’s explanation for foisting the hyperactive, mouthy grad student on him, and had been irritated by the kid’s presence for far too long. However, over time he had come to accept the young man, and actually appreciate his contribution not just to Jim as partner and guide, but to the department as a whole. Blair might be aggravating in the extreme when he came out with some off-the-wall, smart-mouthed comment, which he seemed to be unable to prevent himself from doing whether invited or not. But more often than not he had had the right of it, and Simon had lost count of the weird and wonderful cases he and Ellison had solved because of grad student’s intuition and intervention. 

And he had to recognise and respect the kid’s courage also. Although Blair freely admitted that he was no macho hero, constantly describing himself as a peace-loving hippy rather than a cop or soldier, yet his courage under fire was indubitable. He had never let Jim down while backing the man up in the field, even though he didn’t like or carry firearms. Instead he would use his quick-thinking to utilise whatever came to hand, be it a wrench, fire hose or baseball, never leaving Jim’s side even if it required jumping off a cliff, or out of a perfectly good airplane. 

Perhaps that as much as anything had convinced Simon of Blair’s worthiness as a friend and team member. For both of those last scenarios had occurred when the ever-loyal Sandburg had insisted on accompanying Jim in rescue attempts of not only Simon himself but of his son also, and that despite his admitted hatred of heights. It made the kid nothing short of a hero in Simon’s opinion, and that of his son Daryl, and he freely admitted now that he couldn’t have been more pleased when Blair had somewhat diffidently explained his intentions regarding his new dissertation and how he would like to put it to use in the PD. 

Not that they always saw eye to eye, far from it. Simon still hated what he called ‘Sentinel Voodoo bullshit’, but at the end of the day Jim’s gifts made him an exemplary cop, and Blair’s presence made him a far nicer person. 

His thoughts turning to Ellison again, Simon nodded to himself as he considered how his friendship with his subordinate had grown and developed over the years. Jim had arrived in MCU after a stint in Vice with an attitude you could slice bread with, and Simon had wondered whether the man would ever fit in to the unit. Partnering him with veteran detective Jack Pendergrast had helped straighten him out until Jack disappeared, presumed to have absconded with the ransom money with which he had been entrusted. Jim had never believed in Jack’s guilt, and although years later he had been proven correct, for too long he had returned to being an irascible loner, and it was only through Blair’s constant encouragement and support that he had gradually thawed out to become a far pleasanter character. 

Not that he didn’t still have his moments when thwarted or denied on occasion. And he most definitely didn’t tolerate fools gladly. But the affection and gentleness that shone in his eyes when he interacted with Blair did Simon’s heart good to witness, as did Blair’s reciprocating adoration, and if it meant that his friends were more than simply roommates, then it worried Simon not one whit. He knew very well that if he came out and asked them outright if they were lovers they wouldn’t lie or deny it, but he saw no reason to put any of them into such an awkward position. Love was love, in whatever form it took, and he was happy for them, if not just the tiniest bit jealous of their special connection. 

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he glanced up again to see Jim straighten in his seat, his head cocked in an unconscious listening pose as a warm smile spread across his handsome face. For sure Blair must be on his way, and as Simon shook his head fondly at the sight, he realised that he wasn’t exactly unhappy with the notion that he’d soon be seeing the quirky young professor for himself. 

Yes, they were good friends, and he was grateful to have them on his team.  



	2. A Bad Decision

**Chapter 2: A Bad Decision:**  


Amber Larkin stared at the cordless handset in her hand as if it was a poisonous reptile about to bite her. Slowly lowering it and replacing it on its stand, she shuddered slightly, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach vying with the fear and anger she felt at the termination of a distinctly upsetting telephone conversation. Just when she thought that her life was back on track, this had to happen, and her past returned to bite her in the ass again. It wasn’t fair, but she acknowledged that ultimately it was her own fault. Bad choices in her earlier years apparently weren’t to be set aside quite as easily or satisfactorily as she had fondly hoped. 

Staring out of the window that overlooked the somewhat run-down street in which her apartment building was situated, she couldn’t help but contemplate both what she had just been told, and the past mistakes that had set the potential upcoming unpleasantness in motion. 

On graduating from High School, she had dreamed of becoming a medical doctor, but had found herself short of the necessary funds to pursue her studies. She had made the stupid mistake of prostituting herself for money, although she preferred to think of herself as an ‘escort’ rather than call girl. But however she chose to label herself, she had fallen foul of an assassin, Klaus Zeller, and had nearly come to grief, saved only through the intervention of the then grad student Blair Sandburg and his detective partner Jim Ellison. Indeed, her then roommate had been murdered in her stead, but she had trusted Blair to help her, and that trust hadn’t been misplaced. He had even taken a bullet for her, albeit into a Kevlar vest, and her gratitude had been profound. In fact, once the case had been wrapped up, it was he who had persuaded her to give up the tricks and turn her life around, and she had done so. 

Or so she thought. 

She sighed sadly as she recalled the last time she had spoken with him, just before she had returned to Rainier to take up her studies again at the Medical School; this time backed up by a grant rather than money earned from turning tricks. A grant, furthermore, which had been procured with more than a little assistance from Blair and his contacts on the scholarship committee. They had met for coffee, and she had told him of her hopes and plans for the future, and he had been genuinely pleased for her. She had thought at the time that it was a shame that they had never gotten together, but she realised that, even if she didn’t have something of a past that might have put him off, he had the glow of a man in love, and she could only suspect that it was on account of that handsome hunk, Jim Ellison. And because she knew that he still worked with the detective at the PD, she had asked him not to tell anyone about her return to the U. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a record that anyone could look up if they wanted to, but she truly wanted a fresh start, and preferred that Jim remained in ignorance of her new, low-key lifestyle. 

And of course, Blair had understood, and promised to keep it to himself, respecting her wishes to make a clean break. They had run across each other a couple of times since, but only for a brief word of greeting, and he had kept his word about helping her maintain a low profile. And wasn’t it ironic that her new young roommate was hoping to become Blair’s student helper. What were the odds? 

But now she had a serious problem. One she didn’t want to involve Blair in again if she could possibly avoid it, both for his own safety and what was left of her pride. 

Grimly, she replayed the telephone conversation in her head, shivering at the memory of the cultured voice at the other end of the line whose tone and content made her skin crawl. 

“Hello?” 

“Ah, am I speaking to Miss Amber Larkin?” 

“Uh, yes, that would be me. Who is this?” 

“Oh, my name isn’t important right now, Miss Larkin. But I strongly recommend that you listen carefully to what I have to say. Shall we say, it concerns a mutual acquaintance of ours? Mr Max Vaughn.” 

Gasping in horror, Amber had nearly dropped the phone at that point. 

“I don’t know what you mean. I don’t know any Max Vaughn,” she had bluffed. Unsuccessfully. 

“Oh, I think you do, my dear. After all, he had quite the stable running out of Club Pigale, didn’t he? And as a good friend of mine, there wasn’t much he didn’t tell me about his lovely girls. Such a terrible shame about his premature demise, especially when he had such a good thing going.” 

“He was a blackmailer, not just a pimp, and I should know! He nearly got me killed!” Amber couldn’t help her angry retort. This creep was getting to her, but she didn’t dare slam the phone down on him yet. The underlying menace in his tone frightened her more than she cared to admit. 

The voice at the other end of the line hardened then, and she shuddered at his next words. 

“That’s as may be, my dear, but you survived after all, didn’t you? With the help of your tame police protectors, of course. And just so you know, I have decided to take over where he left off. And extend the business somewhat if I can. I’ve been – shall we say – out of circulation for a while, but now I’m back, and I know a good business proposition when I see one. I’ve already secured the services of most of Max’s best ladies, and now it’s your turn. I know enough about you to make your life very miserable indeed if you don’t cooperate, my dear. Very, _very_ miserable!” 

“Look, Mr whoever you are. I’ve given up on that life, OK? I made a mistake, and I nearly paid for it with my life. And my ex-roommate _did_ pay for it with hers! I’m just a student now, so please leave me alone!” 

“Not a chance in Hell, my dear!” the man had hissed then, and Amber knew she was doomed. Especially when he continued blithely, “I’ll be back in touch again in the next couple of days, my dear, with your new schedule. I’m sure we can work around your studies. After all, you’ve managed it before! 

“And don’t even _think_ of going to the police for help this time, my dear, otherwise you and everyone you contact are going to meet very nasty ends!” and with that, he terminated the call. 

And Amber had every reason to believe he meant every word. Whoever he was, he knew far too much about her and her past not to be taken as a very real threat, and tears of frustration and fear sprang to her eyes as she replaced the handset. 

For a moment, she had contemplated contacting Blair to beg for his help, but then recalled what the man had said. She couldn’t do that to her friend – put him danger again like that. The next time, he might not be wearing Kevlar, and the thought of him dying because of her sickened her. 

Well, dammit! But she only had herself to blame, she supposed. She’d done it before, so she supposed she could do it again, as long as there was no video-taking and blackmail this time. But then again, the man hadn’t specified exactly what he wanted from her, so it could be much the same again. Or worse. 

She sank down on the sofa then, trying to keep it together and think seriously about what to do next. Perhaps the best she could do was just run away. Give up on her dreams of studying and cut herself off from everyone she knew in Cascade. Perhaps this was the time to go to Rome, like she’d always promised herself. Only this time she wouldn’t come back. 

But she needed money for that, and she knew for a fact that the quickest way to get it would be to do as the unknown man told her – at least, for a short while. And as soon as she had enough, she’d be gone. 

It broke her heart to think that her dreams would be so completely dashed once and for all, and she knew that Blair would be so disappointed with her, but it was the only thing she could do, she was certain of it. There would be no help this time, and she was just going to have to live with the consequences. 

Just then, the door opened to admit her roommate, and from the open, unaffected grin on Jenny’s face, Amber guessed that the girl had been successful in her efforts to become Blair’s student helper. Forcing herself to grin in return, she laughed, “I take it I’m looking at Dr Sandburg’s newest ‘gofer’, then?” and was rewarded by Jenny’s whoop of pure glee. 

“Yep! He just told me! Oh, Amber, I’m so happy! He’s such a lovely man – I’m so lucky!” 

“Yes, he is, and you are,” Amber agreed with a genuine smile. In the face of her young friend’s joy, she couldn’t help but push aside her own troubles for a few moments even though she had made her decision. 

Too bad that it would turn out to be the worst one she could have made.  


\-------------------------  


**That evening, the loft:**  


It was a tired and heartsick sentinel and guide who let themselves into their loft home much later that evening. As Jim stumbled his way across to the fridge to snag them both a beer, he ran his hand over his weary face as if trying to expunge the bad memory of the scene they had both witnessed that afternoon, and he knew very well from his uncharacteristically silent partner’s wan and drawn features that the younger man was suffering just as much, if not more than he was. 

Almost as soon as Blair had arrived in the bullpen, they had both been summoned to Simon Banks’ office, to be told that their assistance had been requested at a fresh crime scene. Although the case was initially passed to Homicide as it involved the murder of a young woman, there were ample indications that it was more than a straightforward killing, if there was indeed any such thing. And in fact, as soon as they had made their way over to the apartment location, it was only too obvious that something truly awful had occurred there. Something that would ultimately require the cooperation of more than one police department. 

The young victim, around the same age as Blair, had been raped, brutalised and beaten so badly that her face was almost unrecognisable from the pretty, smiling photograph on the driving licence ID in her purse. The body was still _in situ_ since the detectives working the case had wanted Jim and Blair to work their magic on the whole scene to see if they could come up with additional material evidence to what the forensic team had turned up so far, because for sure the area was a real mess. And whether sentinel and guide appreciated it or not, Jim’s reputation was such that other departments were only too glad to make use of his and Blair’s expertise whenever they could, even if they didn’t know what his acknowledged ‘edge’ actually entailed. 

Even though Jim had seen some pretty awful sights in his time, this was definitely one not to be forgotten in a hurry, and he was genuinely saddened and aggrieved that Blair should have had to see such a terribly mutilated corpse first hand. Although the young man never failed to back Jim up under any circumstances, whatever the detrimental effect on his own psyche, Jim still felt guilty about taking his guide into such gruesome conditions. It seemed to him that, ever since Blair had started riding with him he had lost a little more of his endearing innocence and innate optimism every time he was exposed to society’s underbelly like this. 

Not that he was naïve, because he had certainly experienced plenty of uncomfortable situations in his travels as a child and as an anthropologist, but scenes such as this made even hardened, cynical cops wonder just how low some of their fellow human beings could sink. However, they had each ruthlessly set aside their emotions as best they could and had concentrated on working the scene to the best of their ability. 

Much later, once they and the forensics team had finished their painstaking examination, and the body had been bagged and sent on its way to the ME’s office for autopsy, Jim and Blair had returned to the PD to sit in on the case discussion to both offer their opinions and to learn what else had been discovered and decided upon as regards the direction of the ensuing investigation. 

Homicide’s Captain Nairns had addressed the small group gathered in his office. Those present consisted of the two detectives in charge of the case, Bill Symonds and his partner Leroy James; Jim and Blair and Serena Chang from Forensics. The captain’s narrow features were creased in a frown of sympathy and no little distaste as he began. 

“OK, people, let’s sum up what we have so far. I know you’ve covered a fair bit of ground, Bill, so we’ll begin with you. But I just want to say that I – we – all appreciate your help this afternoon, Detective Ellison and Dr Sandburg. This is a particularly unpleasant case, and although I know that Serena and her people are excellent at their jobs, a bit of extra help doesn’t go amiss.” 

At that, Serena nodded in silent assent. She had justifiable confidence in her department, but she was honest enough to admit that Jim had managed to come up with additional evidence on more than one occasion in the past. And if that evidence helped close a case, then who was she to complain? Especially if it was backed up by Blair’s uniquely intuitive but consistently accurate profiling. 

Straightening up in his seat, Bill Symonds, a twenty year veteran and Homicide’s leading detective, gazed around him with a grim expression on his pleasant, broad-featured face. 

“OK, Captain, so this is what we have so far. The vic’s name is Sandra Dee, twenty five years old, and according to her cleaner, she was a freelance model. It was the cleaner who discovered the body when she let herself into the apartment for her usual shift. And as you can imagine, she was pretty shook up. Anyhow, she reckoned that Ms Dee must have been pretty successful, because she owned rather than rented the apartment and as you’ll have seen, it’s not exactly slum territory around there. Having said that, the vic appears to have kept irregular hours, and had plenty of visitors, but nothing that roused particular suspicion. Of the other apartments’ occupiers, only one older lady is around for most of the time, the others all either working long hours themselves or travelling regularly. And Ms Dufrais, the elderly neighbour, is a widow and hard of hearing as well as reclusive, so she had little to say. Didn’t hear anything untoward, and didn’t see anyone arrive. Also didn’t appear to be too upset to hear about what had happened, so I think she’s not completely ‘present’ if you know what I mean. Seemed to be in a world of her own…” 

Just then, another of the Homicide detectives had stuck his head around the door. “Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but I’ve dug up some more info on the vic. Do you want to hear it?” 

Nairns had nodded quickly and beckoned to the younger man, who slipped into the office clutching a sheaf of papers in his hand. 

“Well, it’s like this, sir,” he began, gazing around at the expectant faces before him. “Seems that Ms Dee had another source of income apart from modelling. I tracked her down through Records, and a couple years’ back she was one of the girls that Max Vaughn used to run from his stable. You know, the guy who got shot trying to blackmail Zeller. He posed as a legit nightclub owner. Club’s name was--” 

“Club Pigale,” a soft voice finished, and all turned to look at Blair, who had a stricken expression on his face. His wide, sorrowful eyes were slightly unfocussed as if he were reliving bad memories. 

Jim immediately reached over and patted his partner’s knee reassuringly. “Yeah, that’s right,” he concurred grimly before looking up to meet Nairns’ quizzical gaze. “Sandburg and I were investigating that case with the aid of another of Vaughn’s girls. Blair went undercover. Nearly got him killed too,” he added, his own frown deepening. 

The younger detective nodded understandingly. “Yeah, I remember that case. You did good, I recall. But anyhow, I’m guessing that someone else must have taken over his string, huh? And she was working again. 

“Not that that’s any reason for the poor girl to die like that,” he added sadly. 

The others all nodded and muttered in agreement. Although the ME, Dan Wolf, had yet to finish the autopsy, so hadn’t confirmed the exact time and cause of death, it was clear that she had suffered greatly, and Blair could only pray that she had been either dead already or unconscious before she was beaten so viciously. 

Captain Nairns spoke up again then. “OK. Thanks Kowalski. Good work. That’ll give Bill and Leroy another angle to work from. But look guys, it’s late. Jim, why don’t you and Dr Sandburg take off? We’ll reconvene in the morning once Dan’s sent up his report, and if both of you and Captain Banks are willing, perhaps you can help my guys follow up on some leads?” 

Both men had agreed, pleased to note that there was no indication of disgruntlement from either of the lead team. Indeed, Leroy had grinned sadly as they rose to leave. 

“Thanks again guys for your help this afternoon. Bill’n me appreciate anything you can offer, man. This is a nasty case for sure.” 

“You got it, Leroy. See you in the morning,” Jim had replied, then he had steered his flagging partner towards the elevator. As soon as they had grabbed their stuff from the MCU bullpen, he intended to get them both back to the loft as soon as. They were going to need as much rest as they could get if they were going to continue helping out with this case, although he didn’t actually expect either of them to get any real sleep that night.  


\-------------------------  


Popping the tops off the beers, Jim held one out to his lover, who smiled wanly as he took it. “Thanks, man, I needed this,” he murmured after taking a long draught. “Don’t know about you, Jim, but I feel like I need a long, hot shower. I just feel so dirty somehow. Guess it’s more psychological than fact, but I can’t help it.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean, babe,” Jim murmured, reaching out to pull the smaller man into a one-armed hug. “Tell you what, why don’t we order in, because I sure as hell don’t feel like cooking and it’s my turn. And while we’re waiting for it to be delivered, we can share the shower, huh? What do you say?” 

Blair smiled up at him, his lovely features still drawn with fatigue and inner pain, but pure affection and a hint of lust in his eyes nonetheless. “I say, that’s a great idea, mine. Perhaps we can wash away some of the sadness together, hey? And I really don’t feel like being alone right now.” 

“You got it, babe,” Jim grinned in relief. “Pizza OK with you?” And when Blair nodded agreeably, he picked up the cordless and put their order in before leading his tired but willing partner to the bathroom.  


\--------------------------  


Some while later, both men pushed away their plates, the large pizza reduced to a few crusts. They were comfortably replete and as relaxed as possible, having shared a most enjoyable shower; the gentle, mutual hand jobs and tender caresses enough to dispel most of their spiritual if not physical fatigue. That said, Jim couldn’t help but note that Blair appeared to be more than a little distracted again, and knew for sure that the young man would be mulling over the case once more. 

Indeed, he was quite correct, as Blair was thinking about Club Pigale, and also about the other person they knew who had been involved with Max Vaughn. He couldn’t help but recall his conversation with Amber Larkin, and his promise to her to keep her name out of circulation, but wondered if he should mention it to Jim anyway. 

Then again, he was certain that she had nothing to do with this case, trusting her to keep to her new resolutions, in which case he had no right to break her confidence. 

However, as far as Jim was concerned, his young partner’s every emotion was displayed for all to see on his mobile features, his face like an open book. A book that after all this time Jim had relatively little trouble deciphering, and that was the case now. 

“Hey, babe, penny for them?” he murmured, reaching over to cover one of Blair’s hands with his own warm one. “Anything you want to tell me, Chief?” 

The flash of guilt and unease in his lover’s beautiful eyes alerted him to the fact that Blair’s thoughts were problematic to say the least, and he wasn’t happy when the younger man shook his head. 

“Uh, no, Jim. It’s nothing. Just thinking is all,” he replied, knowing full well that Jim wasn’t going to be satisfied with such a weak response. And he wasn’t wrong. His big lover’s expression hardened and the pale blue eyes grew cold. 

“Secrets, Chief?” he almost growled. “I thought we were beyond that by now. What about our promise to each other to share?” 

He was immediately ashamed at his own automatic reaction when Blair’s face fell, and the big blue eyes filled with hurt and remorse. “I’m sorry, Jim. I…I know that we swore to tell each other everything, but this isn’t my secret to tell, man. And I’m sure it’s nothing, honest. It’s just that I promised….” He tailed off miserably, hating to upset his lover who still had a tendency to think the worst of him on occasion. 

And that was enough for Jim. He reached out and pulled the smaller man almost into his lap, holding him tenderly and rubbing soothing circles on his back as he dropped a kiss on the crown of the curly head tucked under his chin. 

“No, _I’m_ sorry, babe,” he murmured. “I should know better than to react like that. I know you’d tell me if it was relevant to the case, and I should respect your integrity. Forgive me?” 

He was more than relieved when he felt Blair’s head nod against his chest, and he cuddled his lover even closer. Hell, he knew more than anyone about secrets. And knew that Blair could be trusted to keep the ones that involved him and his senses. But even Blair knew nothing about the things he had had to do when involved in Black Ops during his military service, so he had no right to quiz his lover on something he’d promised to keep to himself. 

Forgiveness sought and granted, the two men eventually broke apart, and after a quick clean up in the kitchen, Jim locked up for the night and the pair retired to bed to cuddle close and try to get as much sleep as possible in the comfort of each other’s arms. 

It was just a crying shame that neither of them knew then just how important Blair’s information about Amber Larkin would turn out to be.  



	3. Repercussions and Remorse

**Chapter 3: Repercussions and Remorse:**  


**Following morning, Cascade PD Homicide Division:**  


Tapping on the door to announce their arrival, Jim and Blair entered the conference room to find Captain Nairns and detectives Symonds and James there already. Bill glanced up appraisingly as the two newcomers took their seats, but offered them a grim smile of welcome anyway. 

“You get any sleep last night?” he asked, directing his query mostly towards Blair, who, it had to be said, still looked somewhat frayed around the edges. Blair responded with a small smile. 

“Not a lot, to be honest, Bill. And I don’t think Jim did either. How about you guys?” 

He guessed that the other cops thought that he and Jim were an item, as did so many of their colleagues, but he wasn’t about to confirm it one way or the other. And Jim was of the same mind as he added smoothly, “I think all of us probably had a few black thoughts last night, huh? It’s surely a bad case, so the sooner we get to the bottom of it the better, I’m thinking.” 

Nairns nodded in agreement, and indicated that Jim and Blair should take a seat. “OK, guys. Let’s get this show on the road. First off, I’ve had Dan Wolf’s report, so we’ll begin with that. 

“He puts time of death at around 2-3.00 am yesterday morning, so it looks as if the ‘partying’ probably went on all night,” and his lips twisted in distaste as he spoke. 

“I’m guessing that the vic must have buzzed the perps in, because there was no sign of forced entry, and the night janitor confirmed that he hadn’t let anyone in. 

“Anyhow, Dan said that cause of death was strangulation, but also said that most of the real damage was post mortem, for which I think we should be grateful. And as Serena put a rush on the toxicology report, I can also tell you that the vic had significant amounts of alcohol in her bloodstream, as well as a large dose of a Rohypnol derivative, so we can but hope that she was both cooperative and well out of it while the worst assaults to her person were going on.” 

“Thank the goddess,” Blair couldn’t help but murmur almost _sotto voce._ His vivid imagination had given him little respite during the night despite being cuddled in Jim’s protective embrace, and the thought that Sandra Dee might not have been truly conscious of her rape and subsequent beating was a mercy. 

Then again, each of them present was realistic and had witnessed enough examples of the depths of moral depravity to comprehend that her drugged and helpless condition wasn’t due to any sense of compassion or decency on the part of her attackers. It was merely a means to ensure that they could have their fun without any unwanted retaliation from their unwitting victim. 

Their attention turned back to Nairns as he held up another file. “These are the first findings from Forensics,” he continued grimly. “And unfortunately, despite your best efforts, Jim, and of Serena’s team, so far there’s nothing really helpful or conclusive. 

“For a start, there was no trace of seminal fluid anywhere, so they obviously wore condoms. The vic was penetrated vaginally and sodomised, and traces of lubricant and latex in her mouth indicate that she engaged in fellatio with at least one of them, but how much of any or all of that activity was consensual is anyone’s guess. 

“However, more disappointing is that so far it seems that for all its quantity, the trace evidence found has proved to be of little use. The finger marks and bruising on the body indicate that the killers wore gloves, at least by that stage, and all surfaces other than the immediate area around the bed where the body was found had been meticulously wiped clean. Not only that, but it appears that any glasses or crockery used had been run through the dishwasher, and the empty champagne and liquor bottles too, so nothing there either. 

“The only fingerprints lifted anywhere were the vic’s and the cleaner’s, who had touched a couple of surfaces before calling 911, and the only blood present was the vic’s. 

“The fibres and hairs weren’t particularly diagnostic either, as the materials the fibres came from were common, synthetic fabrics and none of the hairs had roots which could provide DNA samples should we ever catch the perps. TV CSI series notwithstanding, sometimes there just isn’t anything to find. 

“Also, it looks as if Ms Dee’s laptop or PC was deliberately removed, and if she had a cell phone, that’s gone too, so there’s no way we can trace phone or internet traffic. And the apartment didn’t have a land line either. 

“So all in all, so far it’s looking pretty grim, guys. Your thoughts?” and he threw the floor open to the others to offer their opinions. 

Bill was the first to speak, and he gazed steadily around at his audience as he began. “I know things don’t look so good at this stage, guys, but Leroy and I think we’ve made a bit of progress with the vic’s background at least. And maybe the possible motive for the killing too. 

“On the way home last night, we dropped by Club Pigale, and asked around a bit. A couple of the strippers we spoke to admitted to knowing Sandra, although we didn’t tell them the reason then for our enquiries. Anyhow, according to one of the girls, a Candy Mayhew, Sandra used to be one of Max Vaughn’s ladies, but Candy had lost touch with her and the others in the string after Vaughn’s death. She claimed that she had no idea if the stable had changed hands, so to speak, but did say that the Club had recently come under new management. And that she had no idea who it was or how it’s bankrolled. And to be honest, we found no reason not to believe her. 

“We did manage to speak to the floor manager, but my gut says that he’s of minor importance. Probably has no more idea of his employers’ true identity than Candy does, and is just running the club and bar as a legit, if sleazy business. But if we can dig deeper and find out just who has taken over, then perhaps we’ll find out if there’s something else going on. Something other than providing a simple prostitution or ‘escort’ service. The whole thing’s beginning to smell to me of some sort of mob deal. Perhaps there’s a new player in town? Someone with ambitions and no scruples whatsoever. 

“You think we should get Vice involved, Captain?” 

Nairns frowned reflectively for a moment, then said, “Hold that thought for a bit, Bill. I’d like to hear what Dr Sandburg has to say. Have you been able to come up with some sort of profile yet, Blair?” and he looked hopefully over at the young man, noting his deeply unhappy but determined expression. 

“I think that Bill might well have a point, sir,” he began slowly. “I’ve given the whole scene a lot of thought, and it’s pretty obvious to me that Sandra’s death wasn’t a mistake or the result of rough sex going too far. I know we don’t know yet how many assailants were involved, but there had to be at least two, possibly three or even more, and they all knew exactly what they wanted. And how to deal with the aftermath in order to cover their tracks. 

“And it’s equally likely that Sandra had no idea of what she was letting herself in for. Probably just expecting a group session is all; always a bit risky, but nothing that she hadn’t done plenty of times before. Because if she suspected anything different; something potentially dangerous; surely she wouldn’t have let them in? She must have trusted whoever set it up. 

“Having said that, I think that Bill’s probably right in suggesting that this involves someone who is happy to provide a specific service to cater for clients with particular needs. Sick clients who not only have a penchant for sadism and rough sex, but also a desire for snuff scenarios with themselves centre-stage as the perpetrators. 

“And they must be willing to pay plenty for the privilege of fulfilling their fantasy. Enough to make it worthwhile for whoever is running the show to allow them to kill the girl at the end of the session. 

“Because let’s face it. Sandra Dee was no cheap working girl after all. She was obviously at the high end of the market, if you will, and therefore a valuable commodity. You don’t throw away someone like that unless you have more of the same you can call upon or else you’d soon be out of business. Unless you’re just one player in a much wider operation, which is just sad,” and he tailed off with a despairing shake of the head. 

Studying his unhappy partner, his frown one of sympathy and understanding for the hurting, kind-hearted young man, Jim reached up and squeezed Blair’s shoulder comfortingly before turning to address the others. 

“I think you’re both right, and I believe that is the best lead for progressing this investigation. It’s a shame that the trace evidence didn’t prove to be of much use in this instance, but it’s not the end of the world. Take down the source, and all being well we can track down the ‘clients’ in due course. But if we’re to find out who the guy – or maybe guys – are who have taken over the running of the Club Pigale and its ‘extraneous activities’, we need to hurry. I think that this is just the thin end of the wedge, and we can expect more of the same pretty soon. It seems to me that this guy’s desperate to make a name for himself – or maybe prove his value to an organisation - and he doesn’t much care how many of his ‘employees’ have to die to achieve it. Like Blair said, to him they’re just a commodity, however valuable.” 

Nods and murmurs of assent greeted his words, and as he sat back in his seat, Nairns addressed them again. “OK then, guys. Sounds like a plan, so let’s get to work. Bill and Leroy, why don’t you start by doing some more poking around to see what you can turn up about Sandra Dee’s recent activities? Burt Kowalski can help with research or leg work if you need him, but I don’t want to involve him too deeply yet. See what your snitches can tell you about new faces in town. Perhaps whispers about unusual requests for ‘special entertainment’, that kind of thing. Since it’s really more their field of activity, maybe ask around in Vice too. It might turn up something we can work on together after all. But be circumspect about it, huh? I’d prefer not to have too many people in the know just yet. 

“Jim and Blair, if you’re willing, I’d like for you to check out Club Pigale again. I don’t want to send Bill and Leroy again yet in case it arouses suspicion and I’d rather keep this case between just the five of us for now. If the media get a sniff at what happened, you know what they’ll be like. Dogs snarling over a bone, even if their eagerness for copy disrupts the investigation. But maybe you can speak to some of the other dancers and bar staff. See if they know anything useful.” 

His speaking glance was proof enough for the pair to conclude that he was hinting at their utilising their perceived special ‘magic’ touch, but it didn’t trouble them. With a case like this, they were both prepared to use whatever means they had available to close it even if those same means became the subject for yet more speculation amongst their friends and colleagues. 

With all four men accepting their orders without demur, the meeting broke up, and the team got to work, their determination to break the case clear to see in their set expressions. They just had to hope and pray that it might be sooner rather than later, before someone else got hurt so badly, or even murdered. 

Unfortunately for all concerned, their prayers in this instance were to go unanswered.  


\-------------------------  


At around the same time as the meeting at the PD was being held, in their small apartment across town Amber and Jenny were grabbing a hurried breakfast of coffee and cereal. Although distracted by her own problems, Amber couldn’t fail to smile softly at her virtually bouncing roommate. 

“So, kiddo, you intending to get off early to the Anthro Department? Are you that eager to get to grips with your new role?” 

Jenny grinned unaffectedly. “Oh yeah, Amber! I know that Blair’s working at the PD this morning but he’ll be in Hargrove after lunch, and I want to have all his photocopying done before he arrives. I don’t care if other folks think it’s sucking up to the teacher. He’s worth it, and I’m so looking forward to working with him.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to convince me, sweetie,” Amber replied warmly. “If there’s one professor who’s worth helping out, it’s Blair, so don’t worry that I’m going to take the mick, love. I’d do it myself if I was studying Anth like you. Gotta say that so far I haven’t found any teachers in my school I’d feel the same way about. Except maybe Dr Sawyer in Paediatrics. Now that guy’s a dream-boat!” and she chuckled knowingly, her expression comically lascivious. 

Jenny returned her smile, her eyes reflecting her gratitude for her roommate’s easy acceptance. “Thanks, Amber. I’m so glad you understand. But I have to go!” she continued, having glanced at the LED display on the microwave. “See you tonight!” and she jumped to her feet, dropping her used mug and cereal bowl in the ancient dishwasher as she passed before grabbing her bookbag and heading for the door, leaving a fondly grinning Amber watching her departing back. 

Amber sighed and gathered up her own mug and bowl just as the telephone beside her shrilled unexpectedly. She was so startled that she dropped the crockery to the floor with a crash of broken ceramic, and for a second simply stared, mesmerised by the ringing instrument. However, she quickly shook herself out of her temporary funk, knowing instinctively that she dared not ignore the call. 

And she was so right. 

Grasping the handset with a shaking hand, she lifted it to her ear, whispering, “Who is this?” 

And closed her eyes in despair when the well-remembered but despised voice replied. 

“Good morning, Miss Larkin. I have a proposition for you….”   



	4. Wrong place, Wrong Time

**Chapter 4: Wrong Place, Wrong Time:**  


As Jim and Blair made their way back to MCU, Jim gazed down at Blair’s down-turned head, concern etching his handsome features as he noted his partner’s despondency and the way his distress slightly soured his normally pleasing personal scent. Nudging the smaller man gently with his shoulder, he murmured quietly, “You OK, babe? Is this case going to be too much for you? I wouldn’t blame you if you want to pull out, although I suspect that you’d be mad at me for even suggesting it!” 

Blair glanced up at him, a weak grin stretching his shapely lips. “I’m OK, Jim, but thanks for asking. I know you’re only worried for me, and although you know I usually hate being fussed over, today I can’t blame you. And I appreciate it, really, so I’ve no intention of snapping at you like I normally would. But I’ll be OK. I _need_ to be able to work with you and Homicide on this case. I have a sick feeling that it’s going to escalate; and I think it needs people on it who really care. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he added hurriedly when he saw Jim’s expression harden. “I know that you care as much as I do, and Bill and Leroy are good guys, but you have to admit that there are some cops – particularly in Vice – who wouldn’t give it their best shot simply because the vic was a prostitute.” 

Jim’s face relaxed again as he squeezed his partner’s shoulder affectionately. “It’s OK, Junior. I’m not going to bite your head off. Because unfortunately, I think you’re right. But anyway, since Club Pigale doesn’t open for hours yet, and you have lectures at the U this afternoon, what say we – or rather, _you_ \- do some snooping around on the internet, and I’ll get on with my outstanding casework this morning? Then we’ll go ‘clubbing’ this evening!” 

Blair grinned up at him then, his expression much brighter. “I think that’s a plan, Big Guy. I’m sure I can come up with some connections on the ‘net, because I have a feeling that I’ve seen something like this before. And also, it’ll look a lot less suspicious if we turn up at the club during opening hours, looking like we’re only out to have a good time. Who knows what that incredible hearing of yours could pick up, huh? 

“So, you want to grab a coffee and then we’ll get on with it?” 

And when Jim smiled and nodded in agreement, they turned and continued on their way to the MCU bullpen, their focus firmly fixed on finding some real clues with which to solve Sandra Dee’s cruel assault and murder.  


\-------------------------  


**Later that morning:**  


Blair pushed his wire-rimmed spectacles further up the bridge of his nose in an unconscious action as he concentrated on the webpage in front of him. He had been busy at Jim’s computer for several hours now, while his bigger partner worked on one of his own outstanding cases, and at last Blair thought he was getting somewhere in his dogged research. It was, after all, something he was super-efficient at, given his years in academia, and right now, if such a notion had even occurred to him, it had paid dividends where this case was concerned. 

The series of articles he was studying concerned racketeering and prostitution amongst the rich and famous in high-end nightclubs in Asia, particularly South Korea, and they made for some very upsetting reading. Not least because the similarities between the reported cases and that of Sandra Dee’s rape and murder were so striking, in Blair’s opinion at least. 

He removed his spectacles and rubbed his face with both hands for a moment, as if trying to clear his face and mind of fatigue and stress, then looked around to see if Jim had returned to the bullpen from a trip down to Records. He really believed he was on to something, but now he had to convince his partner, and much as he adored Jim, he knew that sometimes his lover still found his theories hard to swallow. But it had to be done, and as he saw Jim enter the bullpen, he waved him over, a grin on his face as he noted the flash of warmth in Jim’s light blue eyes. 

Warmth that was for Blair alone, and Blair appreciated it more than he could say. 

“Hey, Jim, got a minute? There’s something I want to run by you.” 

“Hey, Chief, sure thing, partner. Give me a sec and I’ll be with you.” Jim set the file he was carrying in his in-tray, and pulled up a chair beside Blair. He noted the fatigue on his lover’s attractive features, but also recognised the barely-controlled nervous energy which indicated that Blair had something of value to share. However, he wasn’t surprised by the younger man’s slight diffidence as he began; sadly aware that even now Blair was never truly sure how his ideas might be received. 

“It’s OK, Junior,” he murmured, squeezing Blair’s knee surreptitiously beneath the desk. “Whatever you’ve come up with will be worth listening to, I’m sure. Even if it does sometimes come from left field!” 

Reassured somewhat, Blair grinned at him, his gratitude reflected in his eyes. “OK, then, Big Guy, here goes!” 

Turning his attention back to the computer screen, he pulled up the pages he had bookmarked, and showed Jim what he had found. He explained about the rich, South Korean party-goers who frequented Seoul’s uber-expensive nightclubs, many of whom had a predilection for drugging and raping young women, apparently convinced that money could buy anything they wanted with little or no fear of reprisals. What cases had been investigated seemed to bear a lot of similarities to Sandra Dee’s, although sad to say there had been few instances of justice being served. The young victims were sourced by greedy and unscrupulous men who enticed the naïve girls into the clubs by offering them free drinks and a good time, relying on the glamour of the venues to overcome any uncertainties they may have. And once they had been rendered virtually comatose with alcohol and drugs, they were assaulted by groups of men who more often than not filmed the entire despicable episodes so they could share them on the internet and also use them to blackmail the victims into silence. 

Finally winding down his explanation, Blair turned to face Jim, his expression one that combined pain on behalf of the victims along with some anxiety of his own, but also dogged determination as he strove to convince Jim of his conclusions. 

“So, Jim, what do you think? I know – I _know_ it’s just conjecture on my part right now. I mean, how likely is it that there’s an Asian connection operating in Cascade? We both know that the criminal gangs active here are more often than not either home-grown or Eastern European in origin these days, but it’s a possibility isn’t it? That there’s a new player in town who wants to extend what’s available in order to entertain the growing number of Asian businessmen and wealthy visitors who are coming over here? What do you really think, man?” 

Jim held his gaze for a long moment, the raw appeal in his lover’s eyes gradually winning over his initial scepticism. Finally, he nodded briskly and replied. 

“OK, Chief. Relax, buddy. I’m not going to laugh at you, OK? Come on, babe. After all this time if I ignored your suggestions, I’d be some sort of ‘Neanderthal throwback’, wouldn’t I? 

“Now, I’m not saying that it’s not a bit of a stretch to accept what you’re proposing. But seriously, Chief, anyone who’s worked with you should know by now that your instincts are pretty reliable, no? 

“So, if it’s an angle you want to pursue, go for it, babe. You won’t get any argument from me.” 

Blair beamed at him, his relief and adoration clear in his wide blue gaze. “Thanks, man. Thank you for not dismissing my ideas out of hand. I honestly _do_ have a strong feeling about this, however tenuous it seems.” 

“And that’s good enough for me, Chief,” Jim replied with a grin. “So, I’m thinking, let’s grab a bite of lunch before you have to leave for Rainier, and I’ll see what I can turn up from here, OK?” 

And with a nod and a smile, Blair shut down the computer and followed his beloved mate out of the bullpen.  


\-------------------------  


**That afternoon, Blair’s office, Hargrove Hall:**  


Blair sighed with relief as he sank down into his office chair, glad that the afternoon’s lectures were all done and dusted. It wasn’t that he resented them – far from it, because teaching Anthropology still meant a lot to him – but today it had felt more onerous than usual. It was purely because of his involvement with this case in particular, he knew, since normally his work with the PD didn’t affect his teaching duties at Rainier overmuch. But he had an uneasy feeling that someone, or something, was about to involve both aspects of his working life, and in no good way. 

That said, a smile lit his face as he saw the neat stack of photocopied pop quiz papers ready and waiting for him to distribute to his Anthro 101 class the following morning. Jenny had obviously been busy again, and he silently blessed her for her conscientiousness. He knew that he’d made the right choice when he asked her to be his student helper, and promised himself that he’d make a point of thanking her when he saw her tomorrow. 

However, his thoughts turned dark again as he contemplated his and Jim’s visit to the strip club that evening. He hoped that Jim’s amazing hypersensitivity would once again provide them with a few leads, because he was sure that he was correct in his belief that there was some connection with the research he’d carried out that morning, and that connection had its source in Club Pigale. 

Having said that, his ever-present insecurity did make him worry that perhaps the Homicide detectives wouldn’t take his suggestions seriously when Jim broached the subject with them; something he’d promised to do that afternoon. And just maybe Jim himself had only been trying to let Blair down lightly after all? However, he immediately chastised himself for such an uncharitable thought. If Jim thought he was wasting his time, he would say so, their love for each other notwithstanding. Therefore, since he had done no such thing, the least Blair could do was give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that his beloved sentinel was prepared to go along with his admittedly tenuous theory. 

Nodding decisively, he stood and began to gather up the books and papers he needed, knowing that he really should do some marking before he and Jim hit the town. 

But little did he know then that upcoming events were about to destroy much of his hard-won confidence and self-belief once again.  


\-----------------------  


**Meanwhile, in Amber Larkin’s apartment:**  


Amber grimaced at her reflection in her dressing table mirror, hating what she saw. She was dressed in her ‘entertainment finery’, as in, the sort of tight, sequined spandex number that showed off her considerable assets to their greatest extent. Just the sort of exposure, in fact, that the clients she was expecting to entertain would appreciate. 

Her heart was heavy as she contemplated the upcoming evening. She had been given a venue – a hotel she had worked before – and told to meet a group of foreign businessmen who were looking for quality ‘action’, and she was to provide it in a room which had already been booked for her. 

She still had no idea of the identity of the ‘voice’ at the other end of the line, but had absolutely no doubt whatsoever that she had no option but to accede to his demands at least for the time being. And at the same time, she was determined to keep her relapse into her old ways to herself. She truly liked her young roommate, and no way did she want to see disillusion and disgust for her in Jenny’s pretty brown eyes. If she could just keep a lid on her actions for a little longer, then perhaps she could get enough money to fund her escape. It was all she could hope for under the circumstances after all. 

With a final sigh, she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. She could do this. She _had_ to do this. And perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she feared. Yeah, right!  


\-------------------------  


Later that evening, as Jim and Blair were making their way to Club Pigale, dressed for a night out on the town, Amber was still sitting alone in the bar at the Cascade Grand, sipping her second white wine spritzer, and wondering impatiently when her so-called ‘dates’ would deign to turn up. She felt stupid and way too conspicuous, trying to ignore the curious glances of the barman, and also avoid lecherous looks from several other single men who were apparently willing to try their luck with the beautiful, sexy woman who looked as if she had been stood up by her date. 

After another hour, Amber had had enough. Whatever her orders had been, this was ridiculous, and she had no intention of sitting around like an abandoned wallflower any longer. She had done what she was told, and it wasn’t her fault if the party had failed to show. 

Perhaps they had found alternative entertainment after all. Who knew? 

And as Amber picked up her purse and left the bar to return home, little did she realise what would greet her on her arrival.  


\-----------------------  


Back in their shared apartment, Jenny was getting ready for bed. She had seen the note her roommate had left her as soon as she got in, explaining that Amber was going out for the evening with some old friends, and wouldn’t be back until much later. It didn’t upset Jenny at all, because she knew that the older woman had a life outside of the U and her studies, and to tell the truth, it was nice just to have the place to herself for once so she could do a little reading, have a lazy bath and an early night. She was just getting a drink of juice to take to bed with her when there was a knock on the door. 

She set the glass down on the counter, and walked over to open it, a half smile on her pretty face as she reached out to release the lock. Amber must have forgotten her key – again – and Jenny shook her head in fond exasperation, her gentle protest already forming on her lips as she opened the door. 

To reveal a group of four well-dressed Asian men, who grinned knowingly at her as they shouldered their way into the apartment, their greedy eyes taking in her wide-eyed, frightened face as she tried to pull her robe more tightly around her nightdress-clad figure. 

Hell for Jenny was about to begin.  



	5. A Terrible Misunderstanding

**Chapter 5: A Terrible Misunderstanding:**  


Amber arrived back at her apartment block, still angry and not a little worried about the failed appointment, so was too distracted to note immediately that something was seriously amiss. As in, when she arrived at her apartment door, she found it unlocked. Frowning, she wondered at her roommate’s forgetfulness. It wasn’t like Jenny to be so careless, since this wasn’t the best of neighbourhoods; its comparatively run-down state making it appealing to impecunious students as well as less savoury characters. 

Pushing the door open, for a moment she was shocked speechless at the awful scene that met her eyes. Several men were in her bedroom, their attention fixed on the sprawled, nude figure on the bed. _Oh God! Jenny!_

Abruptly finding her voice, Amber screamed out in her terror and anger. “Jenny? JENNY!!” 

Everything happened quickly then. The men whirled around, the nearest one lashing out and catching Amber a stunning blow on the side of the head, such that she fell to the floor, momentarily dazed. She was vaguely aware of bodies pushing roughly past her to make their escape, disappearing down the corridor as she dragged herself shakily to her feet. 

Desperately trying to quell the dizziness that threatened to overtake her, she staggered to the bed to check on her friend, sickened by the realisation that the girl had been savagely sexually assaulted, but at least still breathed. 

Amber reached blindly for the phone beside her bed, even as she tried to pull a sheet up to cover her roommate’s bruised and battered nakedness. Dialling 911, she requested police and an ambulance urgently, then sank down beside the bed to wait, tears running down her cheeks to drip unheeded off her chin. This should never have happened. Not to Jenny. Sweet, innocent Jenny, who to the best of Amber’s knowledge, didn’t even have a steady boyfriend, and was possibly even a virgin. 

But no longer. Evil men had seen to that, and Amber had a sinking feeling that somehow it was her fault. Those men were very possibly the ones she should have met with at the hotel, but for some reason, maybe a simple miscommunication, they had come to her apartment instead. 

And made the most of the girl they had found there. 

It wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t fair. 

All of a sudden, she felt the need to call someone she trusted. She felt the need for comfort and a friendly voice, and knew that that person would want to know about Jenny also. Her hand shaking, she dialled Blair’s number, praying that he was available. _I’m sorry, Blair. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault_ she thought despairingly, reaching out to stroke Jenny’s lax hand gently. _Please come, Blair. Please…_  


\----------------------  


Jim and Blair were still enduring the night club’s dubious pleasures when Blair’s cell phone rang. He and Jim had had little luck with the strippers and staff they had managed to talk to so far, and were presently seated at a small table close to the office door on the off chance that Jim might overhear something of interest from inside. Blair was leaning in close; his hand gently rubbing Jim’s forearm in order to ground him and help him focus on pushing his hearing out beyond the cacophony of loud music and noisy chatter; but when he heard his cell – or rather, felt it vibrating in his pocket – he sent Jim an apologetic glance and retrieved it. 

He frowned in confusion as he read the number, knowing that he should recognise it and therefore couldn’t ignore it. He quirked his eyebrow at Jim in a mute request for his lover’s go-ahead, and when Jim nodded in response, he answered, sticking one finger in his other ear in order to hear more easily. 

“Hello? Who is this? I can barely hear you!” 

He nearly dropped the phone when he heard the reply; it was so far from anything he might have expected at this time of night. 

“Oh Blair, I’m so sorry to bother you, but it’s Amber here. Amber Larkin? Oh Blair, please can you come? It’s Jenny. She’s been attacked and I’m just waiting for the ambulance and the police to arrive. It’s awful, Blair. She’s badly hurt!” 

“Whoa, hold on a moment, Amber. What do you mean, Jenny’s hurt? Do you mean Jenny McAlister? My student? How? _Where?”_

Blair was conscious of Jim staring fixedly at him, and knew that the sentinel was listening in to both sides of the conversation so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. 

“Yes, Blair, _that_ Jenny. She’s my roommate, and I think she was attacked by men who mistook her for me. I’m so sorry!” 

Blair swallowed hard, then replied. “OK, OK, Amber. Jim and me’re at Club Pigale right now. We’ll come right away, OK? Give me your address, and we’ll see you a.s.a.p.” 

He met Jim’s worried gaze then, noting the concern in his lover’s eyes as well as his brisk nod of assent. As soon as Amber had provided her address, he terminated the call and pocketed the phone, already rising to his feet as Jim followed suit. They left the club at an almost run, and as soon as Blair had shut the truck’s passenger door beside him Jim was off, driving as fast as he safely could with lights flashing and siren blaring. And as they drove, Blair’s thoughts tumbled around in his head, trying to make sense of the horrific news and what its implications were likely to be. 

If he had understood Amber correctly, then it would appear that Jenny must have been attacked in her own home by men who expected to be ‘entertained’ by Amber, which meant that she had returned to her old ways despite her promise to Blair that that life was behind her. But because of her back-sliding, her innocent roommate had suffered in her stead, and Blair couldn’t bear to think of what that would do to his gentle student. It just wasn’t fair, and the goddess knew that he felt so bad for her, and desperately guilty too. 

Guilty because he had kept his promise to Amber to keep secret her return to Rainier, and he had failed to tell Jim something that might prove to be relevant to their current investigation after all. 

And if that were the case, and Jenny had been hurt because of his precious principles, then he wondered if he could ever forgive himself. 

But right now he had to be there for Jenny, and take it from there, because he told himself firmly that it wasn’t about him, so he should try and get over himself. It was all he could do. 

As for Jim, he realised that his lover was deeply distressed, but had no idea as yet that it was from anything other than his genuine concern for his young student. He had met Jenny himself a couple of times, and had liked her from the outset; her fresh, innocent outlook a welcome change from the bleak cynicism of so many young people he had cause to deal with in his profession. He ground his teeth together in anger and frustration as he cursed whatever Fate had decided that yet another young, undeserving victim should fall foul of such sick predators. 

But what Amber Larkin had to do with any of this was yet to be revealed, and why she should think to contact Blair of all people, and after all this time was a mystery; unless it was simply because Jenny was her roommate – something of which Jim was sure that Blair hadn’t been aware. 

However, all that could wait until they found out how badly Jenny was hurt, and then he intended to request that he and Blair investigate the case themselves as he knew that Blair would take the attack on his student to heart. And if it turned out to be linked somehow to their present, shared assignment, then so be it. All the more reason to try and take down the scum who preyed on young women; be they prostitutes or innocents who simply had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.   


\-------------------------  


When Jim finally pulled up as near to the address Amber had provided as possible, it was to a bustling scene of organised chaos. To their credit, the units that had first responded to her call had quickly taken stock of the situation and sprang into action, the cops cordoning off the area immediately adjacent to the apartment building, and making sure that the scene remained as undisturbed as possible under the circumstances by keeping the other curious residents contained in their own apartments. Having said that, obviously the EMTs who had arrived at the scene had had to take whatever actions were necessary to treat their patient and stabilise her for transport, so there was bound to be a certain amount of contamination, but that couldn’t be helped. 

Approaching the nearest cop, Jim flashed his badge, saying, “Hi, Ramirez. OK to go up? We just received the call.” 

The veteran patrolman nodded amicably, even though his homely face wore an expression of resigned sympathy. “Sure, Detective Ellison, Dr Sandburg. It’s nasty one all right. Some young student I think. They’re getting ready to transport her now. Her friend’s already gone to the ER with Michel and Santos, because I understand that she got hit over the head when she interrupted the attack.” 

Jim nodded grimly. “Thanks, Ramirez. And you’re right. It never gets any better, huh?” and with a quick wave, he and Blair trotted over to the building’s entrance; his senses already automatically searching for evidence as they jogged up the stairs to the second floor. 

They arrived at the door to Amber and Jenny’s apartment just as the gurney carrying the injured girl was being wheeled out, and both men were dismayed to see the bruising on her pretty face as well as the wicked finger-shaped marks that encircled her neck, visible even below the neck brace she was wearing. An IV line to a unit of saline ran from the back of one hand, and it didn’t take much imagination on either of their parts to picture the damage beneath the blanket that covered her from neck to toes. 

They quickly stepped to one side as the medics hurried past, their faces set in concentration as they made their way in controlled haste out of the building and into the waiting ambulance. However, one of them took a moment to answer Jim’s urgent request for their destination. 

“We’re taking her to Cascade General, Detective. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” and he was on his way, leaving two worried and also bitterly angry men watching his departing back. 

“How could they?” Blair murmured, almost to himself. “How could _anyone_ hurt a girl like that?” 

Looking down at his smaller partner, Jim shook his head in sorrowful perplexity. “Beats me, Chief. But come on, let’s get inside. I want to take a look around as soon as, even though I know the CSU’s already started. If we’re lucky, there’ll be some worthwhile trace evidence this time, because the bastards didn’t have time to clean up after them. And better still, they didn’t get to finish the job!” he added grimly. 

Blair nodded absently, although his face was a mask of hurt and indecision. “Yeah, you’re right, Jim. But I want - _need_ \- to see Jenny soon, man. And we need to talk to Amber. I have a feeling that she’ll be key to this investigation after all.” 

“I agree, Chief, but first things first, OK? Seeing as she’s already been taken to the ER for a check-up by one of the units, we know they’ll keep her there under protection until we’re ready for her. So let’s get this show on the road, and then we’ll be out of here; the sooner the better.”  



	6. Putting It All Together

**Chapter 6: Putting It All Together:**  


Some while later, in the wee small hours of the morning, Jim and Blair were to be found in the MCU conference room, there to interview Amber Larkin. As she wasn’t a suspect in Jenny’s assault, Blair felt that it was less intimidating than an interview room, and besides, she was still somewhat shaky both from the trauma of witnessing Jenny’s assailants, and from the glancing blow to her head, which had left her with bruising and a lingering headache. Also, although he had yet to run it by Jim, he was hoping that his lover wouldn’t object to Amber staying in the loft temporarily, since her apartment was still cordoned off as a crime scene until Forensics had finished processing it. 

Not that it should take too much longer, since Jim had already gone over it with Blair’s backup, and between them and the CSIs, this time they had found some potentially useful evidence to be collected and processed. Providing, of course, that they first apprehended the suspects in order to make the DNA comparisons. 

However, in the meantime, it was vital that they find out exactly how much Amber could tell them about the likely identity of the attackers and the source of the set-up, especially as Jenny was in no state to offer any information. Jim and Blair had gone straight to Cascade General Hospital after Jim had checked out the apartment, and found Amber still there under the protection of the two uniformed officers who had transported her to the ER. She had been checked over, and given the all-clear by the doctor on duty, although she had been advised to come back if she had any significant dizziness. Otherwise, she could take over-the-counter painkillers as required, and she was well aware that she had been incredibly lucky. After all, the attackers could well have done far more damage – even finished the job - since she was a material witness. And because of that, and the possibility that they might still do so, she needed to be protected. And where better than the loft? In Blair’s opinion at least, although he hoped that Jim would agree with him. 

As for Jenny, they hadn’t been able to see her, but knew that she was still undergoing surgery to repair significant internal damage and vaginal and anal tearing. She too had been dosed with Rohypnol, so even when she recovered consciousness, it was highly likely that she would have a degree of amnesia, but to Blair’s way of thinking, maybe that might not be such a bad thing given the viciousness of her assault and the extent of the mental trauma it was sure to elicit. 

But now it was time to get down to business, and at least Amber was ready and more than willing to do so. She felt responsible for her friend’s injuries, even if unintentionally, and wanted to do her part in trying to get justice for Jenny. 

Sipping the coffee Blair had procured for her, she faced the two men across that table, seeing sympathy and understanding in Blair’s eyes as well as some small accusation. She realised she had disappointed him again, and was ashamed of her own inability to keep her promise to leave her past behind her, but now was not the time for a self-indulgent pity party. She was also deeply angry on Jenny’s behalf, and would do anything she could to offer assistance. 

As for Jim, she was hardly surprised to see considerably less understanding and acceptance on the big detective’s patrician features, and she was uncomfortably conscious of his barely-concealed disdain for her, even if he was too professional to voice it. 

However, as soon as the interview was underway, her attention was focussed on what she could tell them rather than worrying about what they thought of her, and it never occurred to her that the hurt she had inadvertently caused Blair thus far was about to get worse. And the reason for that was because before the formal interview began, she had leaned forward and fixed Blair with a steady but apologetic gaze. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jenny being my roommate the last time I saw you, Blair. It just didn’t occur to me really until later, when I thought about it. And then I just thought of it as some bizarre coincidence, especially when she told me she was going to be your new student helper. She was so excited, Blair. It’s so not fair, and I feel that it’s all my fault!” 

She didn’t notice the sharp glance Jim sent his lover at her words, but Blair certainly did. He knew that he had some ‘splainin’ to do, and didn’t look forward to it at all. But it was of minor importance right now, and he tried to put it from his mind. 

“That’s OK, Amber. That is, it’s far less disturbing than finding out that you’re back in your old routine. What made you start again, huh? After you promised that it was all behind you. What made you change your mind? I really believed in you, Amber. Did you need the money after all?” 

At that point, Jim had switched on the tape recorder and looked pointedly from one to the other, his expression now all business. Any further statements were now on the record, and they all knew it. 

Under Jim’s questioning, Amber revealed how she had received the unexpected, intimidating call. She confessed that the fact that the anonymous caller seemed to know so much about her and her past had thoroughly shaken her; and the overt threats to her friends and acquaintances should she refuse to cooperate had made up her mind for her. 

“You see, Blair, I honestly was thinking of you and your safety. I mean, you already nearly got killed because of me. I mean, if that assassin Zeller had taken a head shot instead of hitting you in the chest, you wouldn’t have had any Kevlar to save you. And I couldn’t risk that happening again, especially since you’re officially working at the PD now as well as at Rainier. 

“And I honestly believed that if I accepted his terms, just for a while, it would protect everyone else I knew long enough for me to get enough money to escape. I didn’t _want_ to, Blair, believe me. It was always my dream to be a doctor, and it still is. But I figured that it wasn’t going to happen if it was that easy for my past to catch up with me, so I was prepared to leave and try to disappear without trace. 

“Do you remember me saying that I always wanted to go to Rome? That it was my other ambition? Well, that was what I intended to do. But it never occurred to me that Jenny could suffer because of me, so I never told her what I was going to do. And I still don’t understand why those men went to our apartment instead of meeting me at the hotel where I was waiting. Assuming that they’re the same ones I was set up to meet, that is. Perhaps it was a mistake? I just don’t know.” 

At that point, Jim had asked her what she could remember about the first call, wanting to know exactly what the man had said, and what he had threatened her with. So she told him about his claim that Max Vaughn had been a mutual acquaintance, and that he had ‘taken over where Max had left off’. And since Max had conducted his less-than-salubrious extramural activities from his base at Club Pigale, it occurred to both men that they had been on the right track after all. 

So now they and the other Homicide detectives had a solid lead to follow, and it was up to them all to try and make the right connections so that they could trace and put a name to the animal who thought he could carry out his sordid practices in Cascade. 

And hopefully also trace some of those equally despicable clients who were only too happy to make use of his services, like those who had attacked Jenny and killed Sandra Dee. Unless, of course, they were visiting businessmen or wealthy playboy types who had already made their escape, as Blair sadly remarked. 

However, it was very late, and they were all exhausted, so Jim proposed that they return to the loft for a few hours’ much-needed sleep without any prompting from Blair on Amber’s behalf. And then he intended for he and Blair to meet up with the guys from Homicide to decide on their plan of action, because there was no time to lose.  


\-----------------------  


A few short hours later, Jim and Blair were on their way back to the PD, having managed a meagre hour or two of fitful rest in each other’s arms. They had left Amber in the care of a uniformed officer who had been tasked with looking out for her in the loft, and their focus now was on the upcoming meeting with the Homicide team to share information and decide the best way forward. Jim had already provided Captain Nairns with a verbal report prior to leaving the PD earlier, so he and Blair expected that Bill Symonds and Leroy James were already being brought up to speed on the previous night’s incident and the prospective fresh lead. 

Glancing over at his silent partner, Jim wondered whether now would be a good time to broach the subject of Blair’s meetings with Amber. Meetings and conversations the young man had chosen to keep to himself. He knew that they needed to talk, because there had been no opportunity last night – or rather, earlier that morning – as they had all been too tired to do anything but fall into bed on arrival at the loft. Amber had slept in Blair’s old room, and to her credit, hadn’t batted an eyelid when the two men went up to the big upstairs bedroom together. It was no more than she had suspected anyway, and she was hardly going to blame her friend for his choice in sexual partner. 

However, a mere few hours later, they had dragged themselves from their bed’s inviting comfort and set off for the PD again, pausing only long enough for Amber’s police protection to arrive and to swallow a cup of fresh coffee each. 

Finally weary of the weighted silence between them, Jim spoke up, trying his best not to sound too accusatory. “Hey, Chief, you OK over there? What’s troubling you so much, babe? The assault on Jenny or some sort of misplaced guilt? And don’t look so surprised, babe. If anyone should recognise the signs of a guilty conscience, it would be me, right?” 

It was apparently the right tone to take, because Blair turned to face him, his stricken expression painful to witness. 

“I’m sorry man. Really sorry. I should have told you about Amber returning to Rainier, but she asked me not to, man. I mean, she was so insistent that she wanted a fresh start that I truly believed her. And promised to keep her secret to myself. Well, not really a secret _per se_ , but I promised not to mention anything about her previous lifestyle; just accept that she was trying to make a new life for herself, see? And I swear, Jim, I _swear_ that I had no idea that Jenny had even met her, let alone moved in with her! 

“I’m so sorry, Big Guy, because maybe if I’d have told you when you asked me before, we could have joined the dots much earlier and Jenny wouldn’t have been hurt.” 

Jim studied him for a moment before turning his attention back to negotiating the early morning traffic. He didn’t reply immediately, because he wanted to consider his response rather than revert to his previous tendency to go immediately on the offensive and start laying blame where it wasn’t due. 

Finally, he began, knowing that Blair was getting more upset and anxious the longer he was kept waiting for the expected hammer to fall. 

“OK, babe, I hear you. But now _you_ hear _me_ , lover. Yes, I was a bit hurt when you didn’t ‘fess up to meeting Amber after the Sandra Dee murder, but I respected your integrity then, and I still do. You had given her your word, and you kept it, and I can’t fault you for that. 

“Because at the end of the day, how were you to know that it would have any bearing on this case at all anyway? As you said, you believed her when she said she had made a clean break, in which case there shouldn’t have been any further connection between her, Vaughn and Club Pigale. 

“So cut yourself some slack, babe. I don’t blame you, OK? And I’m sure that Jenny won’t either once she’s recovered. 

“And we have to believe that she’ll recover, babe. And I know you’ll be there for her all the way too. 

“So, let’s get this case cracked, OK? I want this asshole – or assholes – and the only way to do that is work closely with Bill and Leroy. We’ll need your full focus on this, Blair, so don’t let your emotions side-track you.” 

This last comment was said with feeling, and for an instant Blair actually felt indignant, but almost immediately stomped down on that instinctive, unhelpful reaction. He knew that Jim was right, and he needed to shelve his pitiful guilt complex and insecurity until the case was over, so that’s what he’d do. 

Nodding firmly, the new resolve on his face plain to see, he said, “Thanks, Jim. For telling it like it is, and for not bawling me out even if I deserve it. I’m still sorry, but I’ll try not to let it interfere with my part in the investigation, I promise. That work for you?” he added, not quite able to keep the faint note of pleading out of his voice. 

And Jim had no intention of upsetting his young guide further, so he merely grinned wryly, saying, “Yeah, babe, that works for me. So, let’s go get this asshole, want to?” 

And he nodded in satisfaction when Blair grinned back, the determination in his expression and posture reassuring the sentinel that their partnership was once more good to go.  



	7. The Chase is Afoot

**Chapter 7: The Chase is Afoot:**  


**Shortly after, MCU bullpen:**  


As soon as Jim and Blair entered the bullpen, intending to check in briefly before heading straight to Homicide, they were waylaid by Simon instead. Their captain had already been brought up to speed with the situation so far by Captain Nairns, who, knowing that his colleague was familiar with Jim and Blair’s previous case involving Amber Larkin and the assassin Klaus Zeller, wanted to ensure that the inter-departmental investigation was still on track. 

Of course, Simon had agreed, even though it put an extra burden on the rest of his team, having to temporarily shoulder Jim’s caseload as well as their own. It was a particularly distasteful case, with the strong possibility of escalating, and like Nairns, no way did he want such vile practices flourishing in his city and on his watch. And he also felt it incumbent on him to make sure that Sandburg in particular was still coping well enough considering his dramatic undercover ‘shooting’ last time around, and his relationship with both Larkin and the latest victim. 

Not that Simon doubted the young man’s courage, as Sandburg had proved himself time and time again, but he was also well aware of Blair’s sensitivity, and it troubled Simon more than he cared to admit to see that youthful optimism and belief in the inherent goodness of humanity chipped away so cruelly and inexorably; particularly by cases such as this which plumbed the depths of human depravity. 

“Ellison, Dr Sandburg, a moment, please. In my office,” and he held the door open for them to enter. “I won’t keep you for long. Just wanted to see how you were getting along and reassure you that I’ve got your backs. Frank Nairns has given me a heads-up just now about last night’s incident, and I just wanted to say how sorry I am, Blair, that it should involve someone close to you. And I pray that she’ll recover in time. 

“I’m sure you’re both eager to meet up with the Homicide guys, so just keep me posted, OK? And if you need anything, just ask. I want this situation cleared up as soon as, and I have every confidence in you both.” 

“Thanks, Captain,” Jim replied with a tight-lipped half-grin. “We appreciate your backup, sir, and will keep you updated. You can count on it.” 

Blair also offered the big man a wan smile. “Thanks for your concern, Simon. Yes, Jenny is important to me, which is why I want to get this done. She deserves no less of me.” 

Simon gripped the smaller man’s shoulder briefly. “Then go to it, kid – I mean, Dr Sandburg,” he added with a wry grin. “And good luck, both of you!” 

And with that, they took their leave and headed out of the bullpen, already focussed on the upcoming briefing in Homicide.  


\-------------------------  


Once again the team of Jim, Blair, Bill, Leroy and Frank Nairns were gathered in the Homicide captain’s office, but this time each face wore almost identical expressions of fierce determination and grim anticipation. The latest bulletin on Jenny’s condition was cautiously promising, much to their combined relief, particularly Blair’s. Apparently she had come through her emergency surgery successfully, and was conscious, although as they feared, she was very confused and couldn’t recall much beyond opening the door to her assailants; a situation unlikely to improve overmuch due to the amnesiac effects of the Rohypnol. Her parents had driven from their home in Tacoma to be with her, and Blair dearly hoped that he would be able to visit as soon as he had the chance. 

However, in the meantime there was important work to be done, and he knew that was what he had to concentrate on right now. 

Nairns called the meeting to order. “OK guys, so let’s share what we have so far. It seems that last night’s assault has the same MO as Sandra Dee’s murder after all, and is more than likely linked, thanks to the information Jim and Blair gathered from Amber Larkin. I think it’s pretty safe to say that the connection with Club Pigale is a given, but now it’s up to us to trace the identity of the anonymous sleazeball who has been utilising its cover to extend his perverted ‘empire’. And I think that perhaps the best person to do the sort of research needed in the first instance is Dr Sandburg. 

“Is that OK with you, Blair?” he continued, fixing the young man with a steady but not unsympathetic gaze. “After all, you’re the acknowledged academic among us, and I’ve already benefitted from your expertise as an online researcher and profiler. If anyone can come up with a potential suspect, it’ll be you.” 

Blair offered him a small grin. “Thanks for the compliment, sir,” he murmured. “And that’s fine by me. I’ll get right on it.” 

Nairns nodded his approval, convinced that it was the best choice, but he also knew that the other detectives would have other, equally important roles to play. 

“OK then, guys. Let’s put together what else we know. Although Serena can’t be with us in person today, she has sent up her preliminary report on the forensic evidence Jim and her team came up with last night. 

“The good thing as far as we’re concerned is that because Ms Larkin interrupted the attackers before they could do their usual clean-up, we have some real material to work with. And that includes a glass with traces of saliva on it, and best of all, a used condom and tissues that the perps didn’t have time to dispose of. So, on the off-chance that we actually catch them, we have great DNA samples for comparison now. 

“As before, they all appear to have worn latex gloves at all times, so once again fingerprints are a non-starter, but there’s some interesting information arising from both Ms McAlister’s partial recollection, and also Ms Larkin’s descriptions of the attackers. 

“According to Ms McAlister, the four men were all well-dressed, like businessmen, although she couldn’t give any other physical descriptions other than they were all Asian in appearance. She was obviously overpowered very quickly and dosed with the Rohypnol, and that, plus the speed and shock of the attack means that she can remember little else. 

“However, although Ms Larkin was also vague on facial identification, because she only had a brief glimpse of the man who hit her, and the others from the back view only, she did say that they were all wearing coveralls. Coveralls which were either genuine, or very similar to those worn by personnel from the Cascade Power and Light energy company, which explains why so little other evidence was left behind at either crime scene. They obviously arrived dressed as normal, and donned the coveralls afterwards to protect their clothing and minimise the likelihood of leaving trace evidence during the assault. 

“Nevertheless, thanks to that snippet of information, we have a lead, gentlemen. A CCTV camera on the corner of the apartment’s block caught four figures wearing coveralls running for a car parked in a side street. Now, the quality of the tape’s very poor, and bear in mind that it was night-time anyway, so there are no clear facial images, but once it’s cleaned up, there’s a possibility that we’ll be able to make out at least a partial plate. 

“And that’s what I’d like you to look into first, Jim, OK? If you’re successful, hopefully we can run it and perhaps come up with the vehicle used. It might well turn out to be a rental, but even so, it could be a lead as to the ID of the hirers. 

“Bill and Leroy, I want you to start by contacting Cascade Power and Light. It’s highly unlikely that they’re involved in any way, or have any useful information to offer, but we can’t afford to leave any stone unturned. And I also want you to see about getting a warrant to search Club Pigale’s offices at the earliest opportunity. If we have to tear the place apart, we’ll do it if it means turning up anything useable. Anything at all! 

“So, any questions? Because if not, then get to it, gentlemen. Let’s catch these bastards!”  


\---------------------------  


**Blair:**  


As soon as the meeting broke up, Blair returned to the MCU bullpen. He intended to use Jim’s work station as he found working in a familiar environment more conducive to maintaining his concentration, and he wanted to be able to work at his maximum capacity. He was absolutely determined to do his best to come up with something useful, both for Jenny’s sake and for past and future potential victims. And it went without saying that he was still weighed down with a sense of guilt for his failure to make the appropriate connections earlier. 

It didn’t matter that Jim seemed to have forgiven him this time, although he very much appreciated his lover’s patience and understanding. He couldn’t forgive himself, and because of that it was essential for his own self-perception that he make some sort of recompense to atone for his unwitting mistake. And that would best be achieved by identifying the wicked mastermind behind the whole perverted set-up. 

With that goal in mind, he booted up Jim’s PC and set to work, instinctively using his IT skills and research tools with easy familiarity, and he was soon engrossed in his work to the exclusion of the activity around him. 

Recalling that Amber had said that her anonymous caller had claimed to be a friend of Max Vaughn’s he decided that that would be a good place to begin his search. If he could turn up enough information about the dead blackmailer’s past, there was a remote possibility that he would be able to pick out some of the man’s more interesting acquaintances. It would very likely be a tedious search, but if it threw up a few possible connections, it would be worth it. 

It was several hours later when Blair finally sat back, a grim smile stretching his generous mouth. It was just possible that he had found a potential suspect, and he hoped and prayed that it was so. Pulling his notes together, he gazed around him, once again aware of his surroundings, and spotted Joel making his way towards him. 

The big ex-Bomb Squad captain was a particular friend of Blair’s, being extremely fond of the young man; considering him to be almost like a son to him. The smile on his face was of genuine affection and not a little concern as he studied Blair’s somewhat weary and dishevelled appearance. 

“Hey, Blair, how’s it going, son? Simon told me about the case that you and Jim are working on, and I just wanted to say how sorry I am that the latest victim was a student of yours. If you need any extra help at all, feel free to call on me, OK?” 

Blair smiled back, his own affection and gratitude clear in his wide blue eyes. “Thanks, Joel. That means a lot to me, and I really appreciate the offer, man. But I’m hoping that I just might have a lead,” he continued, tapping the pile of notes beside him. “I just need to run it by Jim and the others to see what they think. 

“Goddess, I hope it pans out,” he added, almost to himself as his expression became mournful again. 

“We really need the break before this happens again.” 

“Well, if anyone can come up with the right answer, it would be you, Blair,” Joel replied firmly. “I have every confidence in you, and I’m sure Jim does too. 

“And speak of the devil, here he is!” he added with a wide smile. 

Sure enough, as both men looked over towards the bullpen doors, Jim strode in, automatically seeking out his guide and heading directly over to his desk. 

“Hey, Chief, Joel,” he greeted them amicably enough, although his serious expression was one of slightly distracted concentration. “Any luck, Blair? You look as if you have something to run by me,” and Blair couldn’t fail to notice the hint of hopefulness in his lover’s query. 

He responded with a gentle smile, forcibly quelling the urge to reach up and kiss away the care and strain on the sentinel’s face. “Yeah, Jim. I think – hope - that I might have something. Should we take it up to Captain Nairns, or do you want to look at it first. See if you think it’s any use?” 

He knew he sounded uncertain, and was ashamed of his lack of confidence in this instance. Normally, even though his self-esteem was never that great in social situations, he could usually rely on his formidable intellect to sustain him, but the fact that this time he needed Jim’s reassurance was surely a result of his present insecurity. 

However, Jim seemed to understand where he was coming from, and his expression softened as he tried to dispel his guide’s unwarranted anxiety. “I’m sure whatever you’ve come up with will be worth sharing, Chief, and there’s no point in wasting time by me going over it first. So come on, Dr Sandburg. Grab your stuff and we’ll go straight on up to Homicide, OK?” 

The relief and gratitude in his lover’s eyes was gratifying, and Jim was glad that for once he had said the right thing. Damn, but Blair’s low self-esteem sometimes irritated him, he ruefully admitted to himself. But then again, before they committed to each other, he also acknowledged that he hadn’t exactly helped the young man in that respect; painfully recalling the many times when he had belittled or ignored the kid’s suggestions even in front of Simon or their colleagues in the bullpen. But having accepted his culpability in that respect, it was now up to him to try and put it right, and that’s what he would try and do from now on. 

As Joel looked on in approval, Blair quickly gathered up his notebook and paperwork, and the pair exited the bullpen, plainly in accord once again, and Joel hoped for both their sakes that Blair’s usual perspicacity was once again on the mark.   


\---------------------------  


**Jim:**  


While Blair had been busy employing his technical and intellectual wizardry in his internet search, Jim had also been utilising his own brand of magic in front of a screen. In his case, it was in minutely studying the cleaned-up CCTV tape in the hope of gathering some useful information from its grainy imagery. Although the techs down in Forensics had done their best with poor quality material, to the average viewer it would appear that their efforts had had little success. However, Jim was no average viewer, and although he still had to strain enough to give himself a throbbing headache, his enhanced sight had in fact provided far more clues than either he or Captain Nairns had expected. 

For sure it would have been easier with Blair’s soothing presence at his side, even though he was comfortable enough using his senses alone these days under most circumstances, but he had refused to give in to his desire to call up his guide, knowing that Blair had his own important work to concentrate on. 

Nevertheless, by the time he had finished, Jim was pretty sure he had the car’s make and license plate in full, and had also managed to isolate one or two stills which had just enough detail on them to allow for facial recognition should any of the perps be apprehended. He knew that for all his acceptance of Jim’s inexplicable abilities, Frank Nairns might find his claims hard to swallow, so he intended to collaborate with the PD’s sketch artist as soon as possible in order to provide more detailed impressions from which to work. 

But first he had to run the license plate he had retrieved, and as soon as he had set that search running, he intended to go and see how Blair was faring with his research. He was sure that, despite Blair’s woeful lack of confidence, especially in this particular case, the young man would still find something usable, if indeed there was anything to find. And with that thought, he rose to his feet and set off for Homicide in order to advise Captain Nairns of his progress before handing over the license details to one of the man’s other officers to start the search on the DMV database. 

Arriving at Nairns’ office, Jim tapped on the door and peered inside, to have the captain immediately beckon him within. Nairns regarded him intently, a gleam of hope in his eyes as he noted the quiet satisfaction in the big detective’s expression. 

“OK, Jim, give! You’ve got something, haven’t you? Even from that POS tape. I knew you could do it if anyone could, man.” 

Jim allowed himself a slight smirk as he replied carefully, “Yes, Captain, I have. Here’s your license plate, sir, and it’s from a dark coloured, late model Taurus. So you’re probably correct in thinking that it’s a rental. But at least you should be able to trace it now.” 

Nairns’ face lit up with cautious optimism. “Great stuff, Jim! I’ll get one of my team right on it. But is there something else? You’re looking inscrutable,” he added thoughtfully. 

“Could be, sir,” Jim admitted, “although I need to get help from Anita Wise, the sketch artist. I managed to make out some of the facial features from at least two of the fugitives, and need her to help me compile usable images. If they’re any good, they might even jog the witness’ memories? You never know. But before I do that, I was about to go check on Sandburg. See if he’s making any progress.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Jim. Go and get your partner, and we’ll have a quick update. Bill and Leroy are due back anytime now, so it’ll be a good opportunity to compare notes. And meanwhile, I’ll get this plate number checked out.” 

“You got it, sir,” Jim replied, and sketching a quick salute, he exited the office to make his way back down to MCU, there to collect his beloved guide.  


\--------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, the team was once again seated in Nairns’ office, and this time there was no mistaking the air of controlled excitement surrounding them. Jim had already told them about his success in identifying the license plate, and the possibility of creating usable likenesses of at least two of Jenny’s attackers, but he, like the others, all realised that the key issue was to go for the head of the monstrous organisation that enabled and actively encouraged such perverted activities to take place. And to do that, they needed the type of information Blair had managed to glean from his research. 

The young man was well aware of the responsibility, and Jim in particular knew just how hyped he was by the constant jiggling of his knee and the restless tapping of his fingers on the pile of papers on the table in front of him, but he refrained from calling attention to the unconscious, nervous movements, not wishing to add embarrassment to Sandburg’s ill-concealed agitation. 

However, once called upon to speak, although he began somewhat diffidently, Blair’s confidence grew as his audience listened with rapt attention until he was in full teaching mode. And very impressive it was too. 

“OK, guys, Captain Nairns, this is what I’ve come up with. It’s a bit convoluted, so please bear with me, OK? 

“Anyhow, since I think we all agree that Club Pigale is a common factor, I started out by checking out the club’s owners / management company, just as we agreed before. The club is one of several in cities throughout the state, including bars, strip joints and ‘gentlemen’s clubs’, but all apparently successful and legitimate businesses, if somewhat sleazy. And they’re all run by a company called ‘Candida Entertainments, Inc.’ Again, it appears to be a perfectly legal set-up, and as far as I could tell, there was never any evidence to tie them in with Max Vaughn’s extra-curricular forays into blackmail and prostitution, which seems to have been down to him alone. 

“But for some reason I just couldn’t shake the conviction I had that there was some sort of connection with the rackets going on in South Korea. So I dug a little deeper into the listed directors, and came up with this guy,” and here he handed out a printed copy of a glossy magazine article, complete with a head shot of a smiling, dark-haired young man. 

As the cops passed it around, he continued. “This is one Anton Leitner. He went to the same college as Max Vaughn, and I’m sure that’s how they met up. His grandfather served in the Korean War, and while there, met his future wife and brought her back to the US with him. Now, without a lot more research, I can’t provide you with more detail, but it seems that the connections between his and her family remained strong, with her relations now running clubs in the most up-market entertainment district in Seoul. And that’s where it gets pretty nasty. That’s the type of club that caters to the super-rich. Pop stars, celebs, businessmen who want more than just a night with a prostitute, however classy, and are prepared to pay for it. And I think that Anton here decided that he would make the same ‘entertainment packages’ available over here for visiting players. 

“Amber told me that her anonymous caller not only said that Vaughn was a mutual friend, but also implied that he’d been out of circulation for a while, which fits in with my theory. Because he travels a lot between Cascade and Seoul, and I’m sure it’s in order to develop the business model and make the necessary connections to expand the family enterprise. 

“So, guys, what do you think?” and he gazed around him, both eager and anxious for their acceptance and approval. 

And Jim, knowing just how important that approval was for his guide’s shaky ego, was the first to nod and grin at the younger man. “Looks good to me, Darwin,” he said in gentle teasing. “I know I wasn’t wholly convinced when you ran your thoughts by me before, but you seem to have made the connection between the Seoul and Cascade rackets after all. All we have to do now is catch the bastard and get enough evidence on him to convict.” 

His words were greeted with a wide, relieved grin from Blair, and murmurs of assent from the other cops. Nairns met and held the young man’s gaze, nodding decisively as he spoke. 

“Seems to me that we have something solid to go on now, guys, thanks to Dr Sandburg’s research. And although I dearly want to catch those animals who attacked those girls, I really want to get my hands on that slimy bastard who’s behind the whole operation. 

“So, how are we going to go about it? Your thoughts, gentlemen.”   



	8. The Net Closes

**Chapter 8: The Net Closes:**  


Later that day, Jim and Blair were grabbing a late lunch at a local deli, as Blair had to go in to Rainier for a few hours. He had arranged for a TA to take the morning’s Anthro 101 pop quiz, but in all conscience couldn’t duck out of the lecture and tutorial he had scheduled for the afternoon. Because after all, much as he needed – wanted - to concentrate on the case in hand, he also had his responsibilities to his students to consider. Normally, he was adept at juggling both aspects of his working life; the academic and the practical; especially since one usually complemented the other. But at times like these, he found himself torn between the two worlds; the on-going investigation demanding a far greater proportion of his time, concentration, and, more tellingly, his emotional involvement. Understanding where he was coming from, Jim was happy to drop him off at Hargrove Hall, assuring his partner that he intended to spend the hours apart following up on one part of the team’s proposed action plan that he was particularly qualified to do. He had arranged to meet up with Anita Wise in order to try and put together the better quality images he needed to run past Amber, and hopefully Jenny also if she was up to it, to see if they could recognise at least one of the perps. 

If Nairns was agreeable, the composites might also be distributed to Traffic, just in case potential suspects were spotted in transit. Not that that was likely, even though the search on DMV for the license plate had turned up trumps after a fashion. The Taurus was indeed a rental car, and when Bill and Leroy had visited Cascade Quality Car Rentals Inc. just an hour or so ago, they reported that they had managed to obtain some useful information. 

Although initially – and predictably - she had been somewhat reticent about disclosing confidential customer information, the sharp-witted young woman they had spoken to was surprisingly cooperative when she divined the reason behind their questions. She had read about the Sandra Dee murder in the local papers, and even though the cops were too professional to name names, she had apparently put two and two together and drawn her own conclusions. She confirmed that the car had been rented out to a representative of a well-known local technical and electronics manufacturing company for the private use of a visiting sales team. It had since been returned, and was presently sitting on their forecourt, but unfortunately it had also been thoroughly valeted, so it was highly unlikely that there was any trace evidence left in it. Obviously she had no specific names on the paperwork other than that of the company’s representative, but having identified the company involved, it was certainly something for the Homicide cops to follow up on, and having reported in to their captain, that was their next move. 

Back in the deli, Blair picked at his tuna sandwich, knowing that he should eat, but having little appetite. He knew that it irritated Jim no end, but when he was this upset, he honestly couldn’t get much down him, his stomach rebelling against food as long as his anxiety persisted. It was what it was, and he had learned to live with it; years of uncertainty during his peripatetic childhood ensuring that the habit was now deeply ingrained in his character. True, with Jim’s on-going love and support he was gradually improving, but as yet not nearly enough for his lover’s peace of mind. 

However, thankfully on this occasion, Jim was being remarkably patient, and despite his obvious concern, was managing not to comment unfavourably on his guide’s upsetting behaviour. Instead, he contented himself with discussing their progress so far, and that of their colleagues, with a view to setting out their next moves as soon as Blair was once again free to join him. 

Reaching out to cover the smaller hand that was fiddling with the paper napkin on his plate, Jim urged his pensive lover to meet his gaze. “Look, babe,” he murmured quietly, in deference to the other diners sitting close by, “I know you’re tying yourself up in knots trying to figure out how to be in two places at once, but stop angsting, OK? I know you have your duties at the U, and we can work around them. We always have, haven’t we? So there’s no reason why this case should be different. 

“And I know by now that it’s no use telling you to distance yourself emotionally. You never have, and you never will, and that’s one reason why you’re such a caring and empathic soul. And although it may be selfish, I’m grateful for it, even though it’s so hard on you. And of course, this case is so much more personal for you, so it’s going to be even worse. 

“But all I’ll say is this, babe. I promise you that all I’ll be doing is working with Anita, and probably helping Bill and Leroy with the paperchase as regards Candida Entertainments and that technical company, CasTechnico Inc. Nothing needing the senses, OK? Just continuing with your desktop internet research, Chief. See if we can come up with any more dirt on that Leitner character? 

“But as soon as you’re done at the U, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go see how Jenny’s doing, OK? And I’m going to arrange for Amber to go to a safe house for a couple of days because even if her place is clear, it’s hardly a great idea for our material witness to go unprotected, and I don’t really want her at the loft for another night! 

“And once Bill and Leroy get that search warrant, probably tomorrow morning now, I suspect that Nairns will want us to do the honours. Probably go see what we can find out at CasTechnico, too,” and he grinned wickedly as he tapped his ear and the side of his nose suggestively, gratified when Blair responded with a tiny, knowing smirk. 

“So, eat up as much as you can, Chief, and let’s get you to the U. Your students await!” he snickered, relieved when Blair picked up his sandwich and took a healthy bite.  


\--------------------------  


**Later that evening, Cascade General Hospital:**  


Jim and Blair sat side by side in the waiting area of the ward where Jenny had been admitted, awaiting the arrival of the duty doctor. They had reported to the nurses’ station, to be told that Jenny’s parents were sitting with her, and that the duty doctor was about to do her rounds. However, if they were prepared to wait, they would probably be able to see Jenny once she had been checked over. Of course, they had agreed, and had now been waiting for half an hour or so, even though to Blair it seemed like an eternity. His hours at the U had also seemed to drag on interminably, and for once he had found it hard to concentrate on delivering his lecture. And the students in his tutorial group had undoubtedly been aware of their professor’s uncharacteristic distraction, although under the circumstances, they were prepared to cut him some slack. After all, Jenny was a popular figure in the department, so her attack had affected them all. 

It was therefore with intense relief that he had seen Jim turn into the parking lot to pull up beside him in front of Hargrove Hall, and as he climbed into the truck’s passenger seat, he couldn’t help but sigh in grateful satisfaction as he finally relaxed against the padded seat back. 

“Tough afternoon, babe?” Jim had asked, immediately concerned at the pallor and signs of stress on his young guide’s attractive features. “You still up for visiting Jenny, Chief? I know you want to see her, but perhaps first thing tomorrow morning?” 

Blair rolled his head against the seat until he could meet Jim’s worried gaze, a tired grin momentarily lighting up his expression. “I’m fine, Jim, honestly. I need to see Jenny, and I know I’ll feel better for it, just seeing for myself how she’s doing. And I’m good to take Amber to her place afterward also. She’ll need to pick up some stuff to take to the safe house with her.” 

“We’ll do that together, Chief,” Jim replied, his tone brooking no argument. “I want us to stick together for the duration, kiddo, so bear with me, OK?” 

“Bossy sentinel!” Blair had snickered, but didn’t argue. In fact, he was perfectly happy to accompany Jim wherever they needed to go. For some reason, the hours spent apart that afternoon had troubled him more than he cared to admit, and he was really, _really_ looking forward to being in his big lover’s arms that night. 

So now they sat, and once again Jim was compelled to reach out, this time to still the bouncing knee next to his. Blair glanced up at him, miserable apology in his wide blue eyes. “Sorry, Big Guy,” he murmured. “I’m trying to be patient, honest!” 

Jim shook his head in fond exasperation. “I know, Chief. And I understand, kiddo, believe me. Just try and chill a bit, OK?” 

But even as he said it, he knew it would be well-nigh impossible for his sensitive lover. Blair was a ‘people person’ par excellence, his gentle nature and empathy eminently suited to comforting and supporting victims and their distraught relatives; a gift that Jim valued immensely as such circumstances inevitably left him cold. This time, however, the young man’s perceived guilt was sure to weigh on his mind, especially in anticipation of meeting Jenny’s parents, so that although he undoubtedly needed to see his student for himself, his usual ease and empathy with her parents was going to be strained for sure. 

There was no more time for comforting words, however, as just then a small, competent-looking middle-aged woman in a white coat approached them, her hand held out in polite greeting. 

“Detective Ellison, Dr Sandburg I assume?” she addressed them in a no-nonsense but not unfriendly manner. “I was told that you were waiting to see my patient, Jenny McAlister. I understand you are working on her case?” 

Jim shook the proffered hand, liking the small physician’s forthright attitude. “That’s right, Dr Ballard,” he replied, quickly checking her name tag. “But our interest is more than simply professional.” 

Dr Ballard nodded briskly. “I realise that, Detective. I’ve already been told of my patient’s relationship with Dr Sandburg, and I must say,” she continued, turning her attention to Blair, “young Jenny and her parents both have nothing but praise for you, young man.” 

Blair looked a little taken aback for a moment before clearing his throat to answer rather diffidently, “Um, thank you, Dr Ballard. But I’m only Jenny’s teacher. It’s just that she was also my student helper. And I feel responsible for her.” 

“Yes, well, that’s as may be, Dr Sandburg, but she wants to see you, so if you’ll both follow me? But I warn you, please don’t attempt to grill her for information yet. She’s in no state to be interrogated, even if she knows anything of use, which is highly unlikely.” She glared up at them both, the warning clear in her steady grey eyes, and both men nodded in immediate assent. 

“That’s fine, Dr Ballard,” Jim replied firmly. “We understand completely, and I assure you this is just a friendly visit to reassure ourselves that Jenny is doing as well as can be expected.” 

Dr Ballard nodded briskly. “Fair enough, gentlemen. This way!” and she led them down the corridor to the side room where Jenny and her parents awaited them.   


\-----------------------  


As soon as they entered the room, Blair had to fight to swallow down the shocked gasp that the first sight of his student elicited. Jenny lay still, the backrest on her bed partially raised; presumably to keep her a little more comfortable and ease her breathing. She had IVs in both hands, and both men knew that beneath the blankets, her lower body would be swathed in bandages. Her glorious skin was grey-tinged with pain, the brown eyes dull and sunken and looking too big for her face, and the bruising marring face and neck had come out in spectacular Technicolor. Nevertheless, she turned her head slightly and attempted a small smile. 

Completely focussed on his student, Blair quickly crossed the room and dropped to his knees beside the bed, reaching out to gently stroke the small hand nearest to him, careful not to disturb the cannula in its back. There was nothing but affection and sympathy in his warm eyes as he held her worried gaze, his smile soft as he murmured, “Hey, Jenny, how are you doing, kiddo? Are they treating you well?” 

The big eyes filled with tears as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Dr Sandburg. I didn’t mean for this to happen, honestly. And I’d hardly even begun to help you…” 

Blair shook his head in gentle admonition. “And that’s quite enough of that, young lady! The very last thing you need to do is apologise. I’m just sorrier than I can say that you were hurt. Of all people, you have to be one of the most undeserving. And stop worrying about the job, Jenny. It’ll be there waiting for you if you want it. Just get well soon, kiddo. And it’s Blair, remember?” 

Jenny offered him a tiny grin then, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Dr Sandburg. Blair. That’s so good of you to say. And I shall be back. I don’t know when, but I shall!” 

“And that’s all I need to know, kiddo. Now, I can see that you’re tired,” he added kindly as Jenny tried to contain a yawn. “So you rest now, Jenny, and we’ll come see you again very soon, OK?” 

The young woman nodded, her eyes already closing. “Thanks, Blair…sorry…” and she fell asleep almost immediately, the lines of pain and anxiety on her pretty face gradually smoothing out as she relaxed. 

While Blair concentrated on Jenny, Jim looked over at her parents, offering them a smile and quiet greeting. They both looked undeniably careworn, but returned his smile, and then turned to watch Blair interact with their daughter. It was clear by their fond expressions that they weren’t in the least affronted by his ignoring them, simply touched by the genuine affection he plainly felt for Jenny. 

However, as soon as Jenny had fallen asleep, Blair looked up to meet their eyes, a sheepish expression on his mobile features. 

“Uh, hi,” he murmured, unable to prevent the blush of embarrassment and shame that pinked his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mr and Mrs McAlister. I..er…didn’t mean to be rude,” he continued as he carefully rose to his feet and moved to greet them properly. 

Jenny’s father smiled understandingly, reaching out to shake Blair’s offered hand. “Robert McAlister. Pleased to meet you at last, Dr Sandburg. And it’s OK. No offence taken. It’s good to see that you care for our Jenny, and I can see why she thinks so highly of you.” 

Blair smiled in relief although he still felt uncomfortable at his instinctive and unthinking behaviour, only to be spontaneously hugged by Jenny’s mother. “It’s so good of you to come, Dr Sandburg. Jenny thinks the world of you, you know. And I’m Jude. And very pleased to meet you too.” 

For a moment, Blair was lost for words, so taken aback was he with their friendly and open attitude towards he and Jim despite their pain and anxiety for their daughter. He honestly believed that he, of all people, didn’t deserve their understanding, and knew that once they’d talked properly, they would see him for what he was. So he was grateful when Jim took gentle charge of the situation and suggested that they all repair to the waiting area so that they wouldn’t disturb Jenny with their conversation. 

Once they were all seated, Jim had begun by giving Robert and Jude as much information as he could as regards Jenny’s attack without compromising the investigation. Their hurt and anger was evident as he explained that the police were sure that Jenny had been an innocent victim, attacked by mistake just because she was there. At that point, Blair wasn’t able to contain his grief any longer. 

“I’m so sorry, Jude, Robert. I feel partly responsible for Jenny’s attack. I had no idea that she was rooming with Amber Larkin, who we think was the intended target. I should have asked Amber more about herself when I saw her. Because I’d known her for a while, you see. I just didn’t think, because I thought it was none of my business. And I never asked Jenny either. I’m so sorry,” and he hung his head in shame. 

He was surprised when Jude suddenly knelt before him, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to meet her angry gaze. “Just how is this your fault, Blair?” she demanded fiercely. “Just when did you become responsible for your students’ living arrangements? Yes, maybe if you’d known, you could have warned Jenny, but knowing Jenny, and knowing how fond she was of her roommate, she probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. She always believes the best of people, which these days isn’t necessarily the safest way to be. But we’ve always loved her openness and honesty, and I think that you’re the same, which is why Jenny admires you so much. You’re not to blame, you hear me?” and she shook him quite firmly, holding his shocked gaze until he was forced to nod in mute assent. 

He wasn’t truly convinced, but for Jude and Robert’s sake he would pretend to accept their opinion. He knew that he needed to get over himself, so he smiled sadly as he said, “Thank you, Jude, for not judging me. I truly hope that I can live up to yours – and Jenny’s – expectations. And both Jim and I are determined to get to the bottom of this sick business and bring her attackers to justice. She deserves no less.” 

As she rose to her feet, Jude nodded and smiled again. “I know you will, Blair. Both of you. But now we need to get back to Jenny. I don’t want her waking up alone.” 

Jim and Blair also stood, nodding in understanding. Jim shook their hands again, saying, “We’ll keep you in the loop, Robert, Jude. Take care, now.” 

As for Blair, his smile was a little shy, but genuine for all that. “Thanks again, Robert, Jude. And give Jenny our love when she wakes. And please tell her that we’ll be back as soon as we can.” And with that they turned to go, hoping that they could live up to their promise to solve the case, but knowing also that it wouldn’t be through lack of effort on their part if they couldn’t.   


\-----------------------  


**Later that night:**  


Jim looked down at his warm armful and dropped a kiss on the end of his sleepy and sated lover’s nose. The two had made gentle love, nothing dramatic or overly physical, but beautiful and satisfying for all that. Jim knew that it was just what Blair had needed, and he was more than happy to oblige. “You OK, babe?” he enquired softly. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Blair opened one eye and smiled lazily up at him. “Yeah, I think so lover,” he replied, his voice throaty and sexy in the aftermath. “’N if I can’t, it won’t be through any fault of yours. Thanks, man. That was beautiful.” 

“You’re more than welcome, babe,” Jim responded. “I think we both needed that. So, sleep, babe. I’m here, and I won’t let you go.” 

Blair nodded tiredly against his chest. “I know, lover. Love you…” and his voice faded as he drifted off into much-needed slumber. 

Although tired himself, Jim wasn’t quite ready to follow his guide into oblivion, his brain still turning over the events of the day despite his relaxed state. Not that he minded. The important thing was that Blair had finally given in to his need for both comfort and proper rest, and a calm and satisfied Blair made for a happy Jim. 

Gazing down at Blair’s face, the loft’s darkness no hindrance to sentinel vision, he marvelled yet again at how youthful his lover looked in repose, even though he was nearing thirty. The lines of recent care and stress had smoothed out, and Jim was struck anew by his guide’s beauty. Not conventionally handsome, as he himself was; according to various other’s opinions he generally disregarded; but strikingly attractive in a purely masculine way. And best of all, he was Jim’s and Jim’s alone. 

Jim smiled ruefully to himself as he thought about their visit to see Jenny. For sure, they had both been shocked and distressed by the student’s injuries, but the attitude of her parents towards Blair, and particularly Jude’s vehement protestations had gone a long way towards easing Blair’s unjustified guilt complex, and Jim was truly grateful for that. Oh, certainly it wouldn’t be the end of it, because he was well aware of how his lover tended to worry at and endlessly analyse what he considered to be his failings, but it had definitely done more for him than any amount of affirmations from Jim. And surprisingly enough, that realisation didn’t offend Jim, simply because he knew that Blair would assume that his lover was just being kind. As if! _Riiiiight._ and Jim’s grin became a self-deprecating smirk. 

Whatever the case, he truly hoped that Blair would get a decent night’s sleep that night, because they had plenty to do in the morning and they both needed to be on top of their game. 

On their return from the hospital, they had collected Amber and taken her to her apartment to pack a bag to take with her to the safe house. She was still shaken, and concerned for Jenny rather than her own safety, but had looked carefully at the sketches Jim had shown her, a frown of concentration on her pretty face. She had tentatively picked out one of them as the man who had hit her, although she admitted that her recollection might not be enough to pick him out of a line-up if he was ever apprehended. Nevertheless, it was something to go on, and Jim fervently hoped that the sketches would have more success with the management at CasTechnico. 

Jim’s smile morphed into a frown as he thought about that. 

Although it had been very late when they had finally returned to the loft, Jim had guessed correctly that Nairns would still be in the office, so he called in to receive an update, and to deliver his own verbal report. 

As he already knew, although Bill and Leroy had called in at CasTechnico as soon as they had gotten the information from the girl at the car hire company, they had been unable to see anyone of any standing in the company, because apparently the senior management were all out for the day at some expensive corporate golf tournament near Seattle. It had been frustrating to say the least, especially as it meant that Jim and Blair would have to go there again in the morning. 

Having said that, Nairns had implied that perhaps Jim would have more success that his men anyway, although he was in no way impugning their capability. Indeed, they had done a sterling job at the power company. They had quickly ascertained that there were definitely no employees matching the descriptions of the perps, the personnel manager confirming that the company currently had no one of Asian extraction working for them. He had also told them, with no little degree of cynicism, that coveralls frequently went missing; ‘lost’ by employees who requisitioned new sets, and more than likely used their old ones for household DIY projects and yard work. Or sold them on to friends. Who knew? Either way, the clothing would be easy enough to obtain, so the perps wouldn’t have had much difficulty in sourcing their chosen disguise. 

It might be negative information, but it was useful for all that, because at least it closed one avenue of investigation, meaning that the team could concentrate on those that remained open. 

There was also the question of the search warrant for Club Pigale, which Bill and Leroy had also managed to obtain late that afternoon. When it was acted upon the following morning, there was always the possibility that something might turn up which would tie Anton Leitner in with the club, so that the deeper investigation into Candida Entertainment would be justified. 

It was circumstantial for now; the connections unproven; but Jim had to believe that some good would come of all their efforts, Blair’s intuitive research in particular. 

And with that determinedly optimistic thought, Jim finally followed his guide into sleep.   



	9. The Ones that Got Away

**Chapter 9: The Ones that Got Away:**  


The two men were up bright and early the following morning, and Jim was happy to see a slight resurgence of Blair’s normal bright and optimistic nature. True, the smile he bestowed on Jim when his partner handed him a mug of fresh coffee wasn’t the same wattage as usual, but it was genuine for all that, and there was a definite hint of sparkle in the large blue eyes. 

There was also whole lot of affection and gratitude in that look as he murmured a little shyly, “Thanks for last night, Jim. It was just what I needed, man, and I do feel better this morning, honestly. I think it’s partly because Robert and Jude were so understanding yesterday, but also because you took such good care of me. 

“But now I want more than ever to catch this guy, if I’m not completely mistaken in my conclusions after all. I want to do it for Jenny, and as justice for Sandra Dee, and the gods know how many more victims there might be out there that we don’t yet know anything about. 

“So, what’s up first, man? I’ve only got office hours today at the U, and I can easily postpone them, so I’m all yours.” 

Jim grinned widely at the fervent words, and reached out to pull his lover into a warm, one-armed hug. “You’re more than welcome, babe, and I’m glad that you’re so much more up-beat today. Because I think we have plenty lined up and a good chance of getting somewhere if we’re lucky. 

“When I spoke with Frank Nairns last night while you were in the shower, he said he wanted us to start by interviewing the senior managers at CasTechnico as soon as they’re likely to be in the office. I want to confirm what the car hire company told Bill and Leroy, and find out as much as possible about those visiting businessmen. It’s a crying shame that they were all out at that corporate bash yesterday, because we’ve lost valuable time there, so let’s just hope that it’s not too late to take action. 

“After that, he wants that search warrant served at Club Pigale to see if there’s anything – anything at all – that can help tie it and Candida Entertainments to Leitner. To be honest, I’m not holding out much hope, because I think this guy’s too canny to leave a paper trail to his illegal activities, but you never know. If criminals weren’t stupid at some point, we’d never catch them, would we? 

“So, are we good to go, Chief?” and at Blair’s eager nod of assent, they grabbed their coats and the keys to the truck and set off for the PD, impatient to get to work.  


\------------------------  


A short while later, Jim and Blair were cooling their heels in the waiting room at CasTechnico’s Head Office, awaiting the arrival of the CEO and Sales Director. The room was almost aggressively modern and minimalistic, furnished in chrome and black leather, the whole décor screaming expensive, successful and futuristic. 

The pair had arrived at the company’s premises at around 8.30 am, assuming that senior managers in an expanding, cut-throat business like state-of-the-art computer technology would normally start work as early as their design and technical teams. They soon found out that they had assumed correctly, as not only had the CEO and his fellow directors arrived, but they were presently taking part in the first sales meeting of the day; albeit via a conference call to foreign parts, according to the CEO’s ultra-smart PA who had met them in Reception. Coolly polite and professional, she had shown them up to the waiting area, offering them refreshments even as she assured them that she would inform her boss of their presence as soon as the conference terminated. 

Since the call was scheduled to finish by 9.15 am, it wasn’t worth them going away only to return in less than an hour’s time, so they chose to remain, frustrating as it was for both men. Blair found it almost impossible to sit still, and, knowing full well that his constant twitching would irritate Jim unnecessarily, he rose to his feet and occupied himself instead by gazing out of the large picture window, which overlooked Cascade’s new and developing downtown business district. It was an impressive sight to be sure, but he couldn’t help but compare the conspicuous wealth and industry visible to the down-trodden Projects where so many victims of gangland crime and abuse were forced to live; preyed upon by anyone more ruthless and powerful than themselves. It was that type of victim with whom he was most frequently involved in his role as Jim’s partner and official consultant, and although he tried hard to be objective and non-judgemental, he couldn’t deny the intense dislike of deep-rooted social injustice and inequality he had inherited from his activist, evergreen hippy mom Naomi. 

And now he and Jim were investigating yet another crime involving the pitiless exploitation of those unable to defend themselves by the rich and privileged. It might be the way of the world, sad to say, but he didn’t have to like it or accept it. Certainly he knew that good cops like Jim didn’t either, and at least they tried to right what wrongs it was in their power to do. It might only be a drop in the ocean of egocentric evil that threatened to swamp modern society, but he had to believe that it was worth the effort. 

Suddenly he became aware of a large and comforting presence at his back as Jim’s hand reached up to squeeze his shoulder. 

“Deep thoughts, Chief?” Jim murmured softly in his ear, and Blair could tell without looking that his lover was smiling that gentle smile which was for him alone. 

Raising and tilting his head back so he could meet Jim’s warm gaze, he offered his partner a faintly sardonic grin, although his own eyes glowed with reciprocal affection. 

“Nothing worth sharing really, man. Just wool-gathering and thinking about this interview. I just hope that it’ll be worth the wait!” It wasn’t the whole truth, but Jim didn’t need to have his ear bent by Blair expounding on the evils of social injustice right now, and he was glad when Jim simply nodded in acceptance. 

“Me too, babe,” he whispered. “And I think at last we’re about to have company!” and the pair stepped apart and turned to face the door, which opened to admit an energetic figure they presumed to be the company CEO, followed slightly more sedately by a second man. 

The first man paused briefly before heading towards the pair, a slight, business-like smile on his face as he took stock of the situation. A youthful forty-something, he was around 5’10”, of medium build and was wearing smart casual attire, and seemed to almost vibrate with a level of barely-contained vitality that Jim was more used to associating with his guide. The eyes were sharply intelligent and his frank and assessing gaze missed nothing, and both Jim and Blair were left with the impression that here was a man who knew what he wanted and would do whatever was needed to get it. The perfect type of character, in fact, who would make the most of an up-and-coming business like CasTechnico Inc. 

The second man was slightly younger, and of similar build, although a paler version of his boss. His expression was much warier also as he followed the other man across the room. 

Holding out his hand in greeting, the first man addressed Jim and Blair confidently. “Ben Carmichael, CasTechnico’s CEO. And you must be Detective Ellison and Dr Sandburg. Sorry to keep you waiting, but early-morning conference calls wait for no man. 

“And this is my Sales Director, Martin Chivers. How can we help you?” 

All four settled in the chrome and leather seats, and Jim wasted no time in getting down to business. 

“Mr Carmichael, I understand that your company does a fair amount of trading with Asia, is that so? And that you have visiting delegates on regular basis. Can you confirm that you’ve had some here recently?” 

Carmichael smiled politely, although he was plainly on full alert. “Yes, Detective, we do. This is a rapidly expanding business, and we need to constantly work on trade relations with Asian companies in order to compete. Japan to a certain extent for sure, but more recently it’s China and South Korea who have had such a big impact on technical innovation and improved manufacturing skills. We’d be remiss if we failed to make the most of that international cooperation. We do a lot of meetings via conference calls, like this morning, but we are also happy to host visiting sales representatives and engineers. 

“And yes, we have recently had a party of four representatives from a South Korean electronics company over here. Can you tell me what this is about?” 

Jim produced the artist’s sketches and passed them over for Carmichael and Chivers’ perusal. “We are investigating a serious assault, and these are eye witness impressions of the possible suspects. Do any of these look familiar? And can you give me details about your visitors’ stay?” He deliberately omitted to mention the fact that the ‘witness’ involved was himself working from CCTV footage. 

Carmichael frowned in concentration as he studied the sketches before passing them over to his companion. He looked up to meet Jim’s gaze, his expression both candid and concerned. 

“They could be, Detective. I mean, I’m not crass enough to say they all look alike, but these are somewhat vague. But possible for all that. But look, these guys came over about a week ago, and have been touring the factory as well as visiting other companies in and around Cascade. I can’t in all honesty account for all their activities. 

“But what I can tell you is that they flew home yesterday. Caught the red-eye last night because they said they had been recalled by their bosses. You probably already know that we, that is, me, Martin and our Financial Director, Brian Schofield, were in Seattle yesterday at a golf tournament, and I didn’t realise our visitors intended to leave early until we got back. I have no idea why they didn’t stay on as expected until the weekend. I just assumed that they had been recalled, as I said.” 

Both Jim and Blair’s expressions of anger and frustration obviously made an impact on both businessmen, and Carmichael’s thin-lipped grimace betrayed his own unease. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Detective, Dr Sandburg, but I’m not their keeper. All we did was arrange their accommodation and hire a car for them to use when they weren’t working. We didn’t keep tabs on them 24/7. I’m sorry.” 

It was clear to both Jim and Blair that the man’s regret was genuine, and there was nothing to be done on that score. However, they did get names, dates and as many details of the Koreans’ stay as Carmichael could provide, so it wasn’t a complete loss. 

But by the end of the interview, once they had left the premises, their frustration had grown exponentially, and understandably so. 

As they walked back to Jim’s truck, Blair couldn’t contain his disgust, as evidenced by his unaccustomed profanity. “Shit, Jim, we could have got them! I’m sure we could have got them if Carmichael and his cronies hadn’t been doing their fucking corporate shtick on the golf course yesterday! Gods! We were so close!” 

Jim nodded sharply, his glowering expression and set jaw evidence of his own aggravation. 

“Yeah, you’re right, Chief. That said, I sensed that both Carmichael and Chivers are completely innocent of anything untoward, and their shock and disgust was genuine as was their regret that they were unavailable yesterday. I also think that what information they came up with was everything they had, and they held nothing back. But the time-line they provided, plus the attackers’ MO convinces me that their visitors were almost certainly the same perps who killed Sandra and assaulted Jenny. But how – if – we can bring them to justice now is the kicker. 

“Come on, Chief, let’s get back to the PD and update Nairns. If we can’t get these guys yet, we can still try and get the sleazebag who arranged their ‘entertainment’ for them!”   


\--------------------------  


It was a still angry and decidedly despondent sentinel and guide pair who drove towards Club Pigale later that morning. They were understandably intensely aggrieved by the woeful combination of bad luck – and bad timing – which had apparently enabled their prime suspects to flee the country from almost under the Cascade cops’ very noses. And they weren’t the only ones to feel the same way, as Frank Nairns had left them in no doubt that he was just as incensed when they reported back to him after leaving CasTechnico. The narrow-eyed scowl and tight-lipped grimace betrayed the depths of the normally rigidly controlled man’s emotions, even though they weren’t directed at Jim and Blair. As he was at pains to point out, it wasn’t their fault, as it wasn’t Bill and Leroy’s either. It was just pure mischance that the smaller fish had managed to wriggle through the net despite all their efforts. 

“I’m sorry, guys. And I know how angry you must feel. God knows I feel the same way! But thanks to your intuition, Blair, at least we now have names for these guys, and we know who they work for. It’ll be hard, if not impossible, to arrange for their extradition back to this country, but we can try. And if we do succeed, then at least we now have good DNA samples for comparison, and judging by their panicked reaction I think we can safely assume that they are the culprits. 

“But we still have work to do, because I want that bastard who set those girls up. So I want you both to get on down to Club Pigale and see what you can come up with. Bill and Leroy are already there. I sent them on earlier because there’s sure to be someone on the premises even though it’s not open for hours yet. And it’ll be far easier to toss the place while it’s empty. 

“So, go on, and good luck, guys. Let’s concentrate on trying to catch the big fish now.”  



	10. Bigger Fish to Fry

**Chapter 10: Bigger Fish to Fry:**  


Lunchtime arrived to find four decidedly unhappy men huddled around the battered table in the Homicide Unit’s break room. Indeed, the gloom was so deep that one might almost fancy a black cloud hanging over their heads as they toyed dispiritedly with mugs of dubious coffee and the sandwiches Blair had insisted on picking up from the nearby deli. Even severe disappointment wasn’t enough to convince him to succumb to the offerings available from the department’s vending machines, although Jim was ruefully aware that even a well-made tuna on wheat wouldn’t be enough to tempt his partner to eat as much as he needed. 

As he munched mechanically on his own pastrami on rye, Jim surreptitiously studied his companions, concluding that they were all pretty much equally pissed off and despondent, even his perpetually optimistic guide looking as if someone had run over his puppy. Indeed, it was a long time since he had seen Blair so down, and all vestiges of that morning’s earlier optimism had vanished without trace. 

The reason for their mutual misery was two-fold. For sure, the fact that they had missed the opportunity to apprehend the four Korean fugitives weighed heavy on them, but there was also the deep disappointment in that the morning’s search of Club Pigale, although thorough, had turned up absolutely nothing of any use whatsoever. Bill and Leroy had arrived shortly before 9.00 am, to find the cleaning and bar staff in the process of preparing the club for opening that afternoon. The manager was there also, looking somewhat sleepy and sporting comfortable old sweats and heavy morning stubble, there to oversee the operation and await a delivery of beer and liquor. He wasn’t amused to be presented with the search warrant, but didn’t object overmuch, which should have given the two cops an inkling of what to expect. Or not, as the case turned out to be. The guy seemed to assume that it was just a routine shakedown, par for the course where strip joints were concerned, and plainly wasn’t worried that anything damning would be found. 

Bill had begun his search of the manager’s office, while Leroy quizzed the man in question. As before, he had nothing to add, confirming their belief that he was nothing more than a competent enough administrator trusted with no more knowledge than he needed to do his job. 

Bill continued his search, although generally confined his attention to what paperwork there was to be found. He had no intention of trying to examine the office PC, and wanted to await Jim and Blair’s arrival before embarking on a more thorough physical examination. Whatever it was that Ellison had, Bill didn’t question the man’s ability to turn up material evidence if it was there to be found, and he had equal confidence in Dr Sandburg’s capability when it came to checking out the computer at least up to a reasonable level of competence. And he would certainly be able to tell if the machine warranted further investigation by a Forensic IT tech. 

Unfortunately, he found nothing out of the ordinary at all in the relatively small amount of paperwork. The whole office was well-organised and uncluttered; hard copies of letters and personnel records filed methodically and invoices neatly stacked in date order for payment; all indicating that the manager was far more efficient than he appeared. So unless there was anything to be found on the PC’s system, he had an increasingly sinking feeling that the whole exercise might well be a total waste of time and effort. 

And unfortunately for them all, that did indeed turn out to be the case. 

As soon as Jim and Blair had arrived, still smarting from their unsatisfactory interview at CasTechnico, they had set to work, Jim covertly subjecting the room to a full sensory scan while Blair booted up the PC and started checking out the system. And the fact that the manager supplied the machine’s password with little more than a token grumble told him that there was absolutely nothing hidden within its software that shouldn’t be there. And he wasn’t mistaken. Within a couple more hours, all four men were convinced that they were wasting their time. The club was what it claimed to be, no more and no less. Unsavoury, perhaps, but legit, and another useless lead. 

Well, damn. 

Nudging his partner gently, Jim encouraged Blair to look at him, knowing that Bill and Leroy were watching with interest also. “So, Chief, where do we go from here? What does your intuition tell you, because if anything is going to help us, it’ll be that.” 

Blair’s eyes were wide and mournful as he studied his big lover carefully. Jim’s trust in him boosted his flagging confidence somewhat, and he was grateful for it, especially in front of the two homicide cops. But whether it was justified was a different matter. That said, he knew he would continue to do his best, because Jenny deserved no less. So, straightening in his seat and lifting his head, he replied with a deal more assurance than he actually felt. 

“Look, guys, I’m so sorry that so far we’ve hit a brick wall, but I honestly believe that Anton Leitner holds the key to this whole sick set-up, even if he’s not the King Rat himself. Call it a gut feeling if you will, but I can’t shake it. So I’ll understand if you want to go in another direction, but I want to keep digging. There’s more to him than his connection with Candida Entertainments, I’m certain. I just have to find it.” 

He almost sagged in relief when all three cops nodded in acceptance, and offered him wry grins. 

“Fair enough, partner,” Jim said, his tone matter-of-fact but his eyes warm. “So, let’s get digging. Where do you want to start?” 

Blair’s eyes reflected his gratitude even as he perked up a bit. “I’m going back online, Big Guy. If there’s dirt out there, I’m going to find it!” 

Little did any of them realise that the fickle finger of Fate was for once about to point in another direction altogether, towards one who was much more deserving of the unwanted attention.   


\---------------------------  


**Anton:**  


Even as Blair was addressing his colleagues back at the PD, across town in one of the most expensive apartments available in the up-market Marina District, Anton Leitner was glaring malevolently at the handset he had just replaced in its cradle. The call he had just taken had shaken him profoundly, and his anger was tinged with genuine fear that his carefully nurtured budding empire might be about to crash about his ears. Turning to face the huge and luxurious bed he had just vacated, he snarled at the anxious young woman whose delights he had been sampling. “Get lost, bitch. Now!” 

The woman quickly jumped from the bed, still naked, and tried to slip past her boss, but was rewarded with a casually cruel backhanded slap as she did so. Sniffing back her tears, she gathered up her discarded clothing and ran for the bathroom, eager to get out of the apartment before Leitner decided to take his anger out of her hide. It wouldn’t be the first time after all, but at least she was still alive to be terrified, which was more than could be said of some of his unluckier fucks. 

Immediately dismissing the girl as unimportant, he stalked over to the wet bar in his opulent, open-plan lounge and poured himself a stiff drink, taking the cut glass tumbler with him as he gazed out over the marina to the bay beyond. However, the stunning view was lost on him as he sipped greedily at the over-priced single malt scotch, his thoughts focussed on the content of the unwelcome call. 

Only yesterday, he had enjoyed himself immensely at the golf tournament in Seattle, expansively welcoming the wealthy businessmen and company directors who were being treated to his family company’s quality hospitality. Because these days Candida Entertainments Inc. had far more to offer than its interest in bars and strip joints. They had branched out over the past few years to become big players in the corporate entertainment field, for which expansion he had cause to be grateful. Or should have been, if only he hadn’t been the spoilt product of an exclusive education and all the social advantages that money could buy. 

As he continued to ponder his options, he spared a thought for Candida’s origins, and how it had developed purely through the hard work and determination of his parents and grandparents. Not that he was unduly impressed by that concept, his self-centred personality only concerned with what the end results could do for him as the only son and heir. 

When his grandfather had returned from the Korean War, bringing his Korean bride with him, he had been happy to maintain connections with Grandma’s extended family in Seoul. They had always been involved in running bars and brothels, finding a ready source of income in the American and other foreign soldiers needing their brand of R and R. And after the war, they had found themselves wealthy enough to continue to grow their business until they had founded an empire. An empire built on the exploitation of young women and boys, and catering increasingly to the ever more demanding and deviant tastes of the rich and famous. 

Although Grandfather had insisted that his own company remain on the right side of the law, he wasn’t above sharing the bounty earned by his wife’s cousins, and when his own son married another young Korean woman, she was the daughter of a successful competitor, thus merging both interests into an even more prosperous international venture. And as their only child, Anton had benefitted from the outset from the best money could buy. He had lived the life of a jet-setting playboy for some years after graduating from college, spending a lot of time in Seoul with his relations. And both learning about and enjoying the various ‘entertainments’ on offer with little or no fear of reprisals. When he had returned to the US to take up the directorship his father offered him, he was determined to make the most of his connections and his experience to set up on his own, his greed spurring him on to seize the chance to build his own clandestine and nefarious empire outside of the parent company. And the premature death of his old college buddy, Max Vaughn had presented him with ideal place to start. 

Of course, he had known that he needed to make a success of his legitimate business career, and so far his parents had had no cause for complaint. But now it seemed that all that was about to change, just because he’d made an elementary mistake. A miscalculation that his pride wouldn’t allow him to view as his own fault. 

It just wasn’t fair. 

His angry thoughts circling back to the previous day’s events, he recalled with disgust now how smug he had felt, knowing that, while he lavished corporate high-flyers with an abundance of champagne, excellent food and golf, he had also been responsible for arranging a very different type of entertainment for the four visiting Korean representatives. He had been counting on their favourable reports of his hospitality on their return home, as there was nothing like personal recommendation to enhance his reputation in those particular circles. 

However, the call he had just received had frightened as much as infuriated him, and all because the stupid bastards had attacked the wrong girl. The first one had been intended for sure; collateral damage in a satisfactory group sex encounter orchestrated by Anton and using one of the whores he had ‘inherited’ from the deceased Max. But somehow his ‘clients’ had been provided with the wrong information, and instead of meeting the Larkin bitch at the designated hotel, had gone to her home address. And apparently had taken full advantage of the girl they had found there, believing her to be their ‘toy’ for the night. Interrupted before they could finish their session, they had made their escape, and taken the next available flight home. 

And the report that they had made of his efforts hadn’t been satisfactory at all. 

Unfortunately for Leitner, one of the men had actually been the nephew of one of Seoul’s most notorious godfather figures; a man furthermore who had serious business connections with his mafia counterpart in Cascade. And to say he had been displeased was an understatement as had been forcibly brought home to Anton by his caller, who had identified himself as the latter criminal gang boss’ right hand man and personal enforcer. As a favour for his Korean friend, Marco Leone was perfectly happy to show the upstart Leitner the error of his ways, and Anton felt real fear curling in his gut as he tried desperately to figure out how he was going to get out of this whole disaster with his skin intact. 

Downing the last of his scotch, he returned to the bar and poured himself another, knowing that he was going to have to swallow his pride and go back to his father in the first instance, trusting that once he’d ‘fessed up to everything, his family would protect him. They had to have their uses, and he was quite happy to take advantage of them. Yes, that was what he would do. It would be galling for sure, but he could always start again once the furore died down, and next time he’d be more careful. 

It was perhaps inevitable that his abiding conceit and contempt for those he considered to be his inferiors was about to lead to his downfall after all.   



	11. Justice is Served

**Chapter 11: Justice is Served:**  


After lunch Jim and Blair made their way back to Major Crimes, knowing that Simon would want to be updated on their latest movements. Blair was still desperately unhappy, but his innate obstinacy and determination had kicked in, and he was anticipating a lengthy session surfing the net for anything useful as regards the elusive Anton Leitner. On the other hand, Jim was feeling somewhat guilty about neglecting his own cases, and although he was prepared to back his young lover up to the best of his ability, he had a strong suspicion that Simon might have something to say about it, and as it happened, he wasn’t wrong. 

As soon as the pair entered the bullpen, they were summoned to Simon’s office. Once seated, their boss and friend studied them carefully for a moment before speaking, his tone and expression both sympathetic and understanding. “OK, guys, I’ve just had a brief heads-up from Frank Nairns, and he told me about the bust this morning. And also about your prime suspects managing to escape back home. 

“And I want to say here and now that I’m really sorry. I know no-one’s to blame, but shit happens, and I’m guessing you two will be feeling pretty down and guilty anyway, especially you, Blair. I know how much solving this case means to you personally, and I’m sorry that so far there’s little to go on. 

“But having said that, I have to think of the unit, and that means I’m going to need you to take over your caseload again, Jim. And although I can’t directly order you in the same way, Blair, I know that there’s a case that Vice wants your input on, so I expect you to put in an appearance there shortly.” 

When it seemed as if both men wanted to interrupt, he held up his hand to silence them, although his tone was apologetic. “I know, guys. But there’s nothing I can do about it. There are other cases needing your attention, and as you well know, crime stops for no man – or woman – in this city. 

“Then again, I have no objection whatsoever if you want to continue working on this case in your own time. I just need you to concentrate on the wider picture from now on, OK?” 

In all honesty, there wasn’t anything they could say in contradiction, so it was two downcast men who left the office to return to Jim’s desk. Once seated, Jim met his guide’s sad gaze. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said softly. “But we can’t blame Simon, and I had a feeling that it would come to this. But I promise you that I’ll still back you up when I can, babe, and once you’ve been up to Vice to see what they have in store for you, why don’t you take a couple of hours to yourself and go to your office at the U? You can do your research uninterrupted, and come back to pick me up later. I’ll even let you take the truck,” he added with a faint grin, pleased when Blair quirked an eyebrow in disbelief, a tiny, sardonic smirk pulling at the full lips. 

“Now I _know_ you’re trying to cheer me up, Big Guy,” he replied, “I mean, letting me loose with Sweetheart? But I appreciate it, man. And I might take you up on it later if the offer’s still open. But Simon’s right, sad to say. I do need to fulfil my commitments to other departments too. 

“It’s just that I’m really not looking forward to visiting Jenny and her folks tonight and having to tell them that we haven’t made any progress. Or worse, that we believe her actual attackers have fled the country. They’ll be so disappointed in me.” 

Jim shook his head firmly. “No, Chief, they won’t, I’m sure. That is, yes, they’ll be disappointed that we haven’t caught anyone yet, but not in you, babe. They know as well as I do that you’re doing your best, and that you won’t give up until there’s absolutely no chance of getting anywhere. It’s what you do, babe. Who you are.” 

The gratitude in Blair’s eyes warmed him, and he was glad to have cheered his lover up a little. And hopefully boosted his confidence a bit also. And when Blair rose to his feet, squeezing Jim’s shoulder briefly as he moved away, Jim gave himself a mental pat on the back as he noted that there was just a hint of returning bounce in the young guide’s step as he murmured sentinel-soft, “thanks, lover. Really. See you later!”   


\-----------------------  


Much later that evening, Jim and Blair were once more on their way to the hospital, hoping to see an improvement in Jenny, even if they didn’t relish revealing that so far little progress had been made. 

In one sense the afternoon had been productive for both men, as Jim had put in some solid groundwork on two of his outstanding cases, and had turned up a couple of leads that were particularly promising, and which he intended to follow up over the next couple of days. 

As for Blair, he had managed to focus on the case that Vice wanted him to look at, which involved a potential turf war between two drug-dealing gangs over a disputed area that included a school and youth club set up for disadvantaged kids from the Projects. A reliable snitch had reported that there was growing friction between the two rival gangs, and that a full-scale bloodbath was imminent without some sort of intervention. Using both his anthropological expertise and innate intuition, Blair was able to make some astute observations regarding the likely outcome based on the rival gangs’ known leaders, their hierarchical system and usual MO, such that the detectives involved were given a fair idea as to how to proceed – as long as they followed his guidelines, that was. 

After he had finished up in Vice, Blair had taken Jim up on his offer to use the truck to go back to his office on campus, there to carry on with his internet research until it was time to pick Jim up from the PD. 

As he explained to Jim on the drive home, although he still hadn’t managed to pull up anything concrete on which to act, he had turned up something of interest after all. He had concentrated on discovering every detail available in the public domain about Leitner and his immediate family, plus as much as he could about Candida Entertainments Inc.’s foreign connections. As they already knew to their bitter disappointment, Club Pigale had proven to be free from any hint of illegal impropriety since its takeover by Candida, and apparently that went for all of their other similar venues. 

Having said that, Blair had been surprised to find out how deeply the company was now engaged in the field of corporate hospitality; catering to the needs of a very different class of clientele to say the least. And on trawling through various news websites and current social media pages, he had hit upon an article written for a glossy, online business newsletter. On reading it, he had been even more intrigued to learn that Candida Entertainments was the company that had provided the hospitality for the same celebrity Pro-Am golf tournament that the CasTechnico managers had attended. It could have been coincidence, but he really didn’t believe it, and once he had been informed, neither did Jim. 

“It’s _so_ not right, man!” Blair growled, barely restraining himself from slapping the truck’s dashboard in frustration. It wouldn’t do to distract his lover while he was negotiating Cascade’s evening rush hour traffic after all. He couldn’t help but envisage the full colour, candid photo he had seen in the online article, showing a smiling, handsome Anton Leitner, champagne flute in one hand while the other rested familiarly on the shoulder of one of Cascade’s most prominent socialites. 

“It can’t be a coincidence, Jim. Him dispensing all that corporate bonhomie, and at the same time pandering to those sick sales rep bastards! I’ll bet that’s why the CasTechnico managers were invited, you know. To keep them out of the way,” he finished morosely with way more melancholy cynicism than Jim had seen him exhibit in a very long time; if ever. 

“And to indulge in a bit of smug, self-congratulation too, no doubt,” Jim concurred grimly. “Must have been quite the kick imagining what had been going on during the night. Assuming that he hadn’t yet learned about the mistaken identity balls-up, that is. But I still can’t see how that helps us, babe. Unless the rest of the family was in on it too.” 

Blair deflated again at that. “You’re right, Jim. I honestly believe that if we’re correct, Leitner’s doing this all on his own; hiring his own muscle and keeping all his transactions separate. Probably turn out to have an off-shore account somewhere, huh? I’m not saying that the parent company’s as pure as the driven snow. Not with the sort of relations they’ve got back in Korea, anyhow. But I think they’re keeping their noses clean as far as their US business is concerned. Can’t afford to have any mud stick to them while they’re trying to go up in the world!” he finished with heavy sarcasm. 

They had arrived at 852 Prospect by then, and climbed up to the third floor in pensive silence. However, Jim was determined that they have a reasonable dinner before heading out again for the hospital, so he made a unilateral decision to order in pizza. To his relief, Blair hadn’t commented, still too distracted by his tumultuous thoughts. He did, however, manage to eat a couple of slices of pie, enough to placate his anxiously hovering sentinel anyway.  


\---------------------------  


**Later that night, Cascade General Hospital:**  


When Jim and Blair arrived at the hospital, they immediately went up to the ward to which Jenny had been admitted, only to find an empty bed. Blair immediately thought the worst, and was heading for full-blown meltdown, when a senior nurse approached them, a concerned expression on her weary face. 

“Dr Sandburg? Detective Ellison? If you’re looking for Jenny McAlister, she’s been moved up to ICU. She has contracted an infection, and it was deemed necessary to move her. I’m sorry if you’ve gotten the wrong impression,” she continued, studying Blair in particular with a professional but not unsympathetic eye. “But if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you up.” 

Both men nodded and murmured their assent and gratitude, Jim wrapping a supportive arm around his trembling guide’s shoulders. 

“Calm down, babe,” he whispered encouragingly. “She’s in the best hands here. Just stop thinking the worst, OK?” 

Blair swallowed hard and met his lover’s concerned gaze, finding nothing but understanding and support therein rather than the disdain he might have expected. Nodding briefly, he replied softly, “Thanks, man. Sorry about that. Just hit me hard, is all. I’m OK, honest!” 

Jim grinned sadly in response, and then they both turned their attention to the sight of Robert and Jude McAlister exiting a glassed-in cubicle down the corridor ahead of them. Jenny’s parents looked desperately tired and anxious, and Blair couldn’t prevent himself from speeding up and moving to greet and comfort them. 

“Robert, Jude,” he addressed them gently. “Is everything OK? We’ve been told that Jenny has contracted an infection. Is she doing OK? Are _you_ OK?” 

With a sad smile, Jude took his arm and led him over to the window of Jenny’s cubicle so he could see for himself. His student lay still and silent, the nasal oxygen tube bisecting her face helping her to breathe, although thankfully she didn’t require a ventilator. If anything, she looked even more battered and frail than before, and Blair swallowed hard in sympathy, his gentle soul reaching out to her. 

“Oh, man!” he whispered, almost to himself. “Oh, Jenny, love! You don’t deserve this! It’s so not fair!” 

A gentle touch on his arm distracted him, and he looked into Jude’s sorrowful eyes. “No, Blair, she doesn’t, and it’s not,” the older woman murmured quietly but firmly. “But it’s not of your doing, so try not to take on so. We’re all here for her, and that’s the best we can do for now.” 

Blair held her gaze for a long moment, but then felt compelled to ‘fess up to not having made any real progress in the hunt for Jenny’s attackers. 

But once again Jude and Robert McAlister surprised them with their acceptance and understanding. Meeting both Blair and Jim’s gaze with soul-deep anxiety tinged with steadfast courage they both insisted that in the grand scheme of things, it was Jenny’s immediate health problems that were taking up all their time and energy right now, although they appreciated any and everything Jim and Blair could do as regards closing the case. 

At once both humbled and grateful for the couple’s fortitude and stoicism, Jim and Blair soon took their leave, not wishing to overstay their welcome under the circumstances. However, they promised faithfully that they would check in again soon to see how Jenny was progressing, even if they had no additional information to deliver. 

But it was a sad and introspective pair that drove back to the loft that night.   


\------------------------  


**Meanwhile, at Candida Mansion, Cascade Heights:**  


While Jim and Blair had been working their way doggedly through the afternoon; Anton Leitner had been undergoing a different type of stress; a type which was anathema to his spoilt and self-indulgent personality. After receiving the disturbing phone call, he had contacted his parents and arranged to visit them at their impressive family residence in Cascade Heights. It was a huge, immaculately maintained mansion, in keeping with their accumulated wealth and perceived social status, but Anton was in no mood to appreciate his surroundings as he swept up the broad, gravel driveway in his top-of-the-range black Mercedes sports car. In fact, he was more scared than he could ever recall being before; the feeling of amorphous vulnerability alien to him. It had simply never occurred to him that his parents’ money and reputation couldn’t continue to protect him under any and all circumstances either by buying off injured parties or providing him with suitably able and impressive bodyguards from their private security team. But the longer the family meeting went on, the more he realised that the threat had to be taken seriously after all, and the revelation was truly terrifying. 

As soon as he had arrived, he had been ushered into Grandfather’s den, to find his parents already there and waiting for him. Although his mother had hugged him briefly and offered him her customary peck on the cheek, he didn’t have to be particularly sensitive to realise immediately that the atmosphere in the room was bordering on hostile. Told to take a seat, he found himself in a virtual interview situation, ‘chaired’ by a highly displeased and censorious Grandfather. Although Grandfather had recently begun to step back from actively running the company, expecting to leave more and more of the day-to-day responsibility to his son and grandson, he still oversaw its general progress and development, and had a major say in its future expansion. 

And that most certainly did not include the type of services Anton wanted to provide. 

Before anything else was discussed, Anton was required to explain exactly what he had been doing, down to the last detail, and that in itself was a desperately painful experience for one so used to getting his own way. Grudgingly delivering his explanation with as much ill-grace as growing anxiety, he was still taken aback by the reaction his information elicited, even from his mother. As her much-vaunted Golden Boy, he had expected instant forgiveness and sympathy from that quarter at least, but apparently not. It seemed that each family member was openly critical, furious and disappointed in him to a greater or lesser extent, and it was most certainly not the sort of reception he had anticipated. 

Perhaps not surprisingly, their anger wasn’t on moral grounds _per se._ With the sort of connections they had with their relations in Seoul they were hardly naïve, and were well aware of the type of extreme sexual perversions commonly available and practised over there by those willing and able to pay for the privilege. But Grandfather had always insisted that his company should remain within the law, even though he wasn’t averse to socialising with more prominent local gangland figures on occasion. Or doing them the occasional favour as long as there was no risk to himself or his family involved. One never knew after all when such familiarity might be of mutual benefit. 

And one such criminal associate was none other than Marco Leone, the local mafia godfather, as yet untouched and untouchable by law enforcement agencies, though not for lack of trying. 

As Grandfather proceeded to explain; in the coldest and most disdainful tone Anton had ever heard him utter; it was purely out of courtesy to him that Leone had already advised him of the threat to his grandson, and the reason behind it. And Leone had also made it abundantly clear that he intended to honour his promise to his Korean counterpart that the punishment would be carried out as agreed. The only course of action now as far as Grandfather and Anton’s parents were concerned was to try and mitigate the extent of said punishment in the hope that it would be a salutary lesson rather than a painfully physical or possibly even lethal outcome. 

For sure, this was one situation in which no amount of money was going to buy off the victims of Anton’s greed and stupidity. No one endangered or insulted a family member of such a powerful criminal overlord as the head of the Korean cartel without an example being made. 

Fixing Anton with a scornful, compelling gaze, Grandfather Leitner didn’t need to raise his voice to finally get the message through to his disbelieving, flabbergasted grandson. 

“Why did you do it, Anton? How could you be so greedy and stupid? I knew you were a spoiled brat,” – this said with a contemptuous glance at his son and daughter-in-law – “but I honestly believed that you would have more sense. I thought that you would be more than satisfied with the wealth and status this family – this company - has provided for you. You have always had anything you wanted. Anything at all! 

“So why this compulsion to ‘do your own thing’ and try to get more? And it such a way too. I’m hardly in my dotage, Anton, and I know what goes on in the backrooms of the clubs in Seoul, just as your grandmother did also, God rest her soul. And we both recognised that it should stay there, not become part of our enterprise. 

“You’ve let me down, son. You’ve let us _all_ down, not least yourself. And now we have to try and put it right somehow without too much loss of face.” 

In retrospect, perhaps it had been the wrong tone to take with his grandson, but Leitner wasn’t to know that at the time. So when said grandson leapt to his feet with a snarl of fury, for a moment all the others could do was watch his retreating back in consternation. So he hadn’t taken it well. That wasn’t really all that surprising since the young man had never before been crossed by his family in his life. 

But what neither his grandfather nor his parents had foreseen was that he was so incensed and pumped up with self-righteous indignation that he would leap into his Mercedes and race off down the road, going wherever he could and as fast as he could to burn off his fury. 

It was to be the last thing he ever did.  



	12. Epilogue

**Chapter 12: Epilogue:**  


**Following morning, the loft:**  


Jim woke bright and early, even before the alarm had had a chance to go off, the ability to do so undoubtedly a legacy of his time in the military. And on days like this he was grateful for the habit, as he really wanted his partner to have the benefit of as much restful sleep as possible. Reaching carefully over to the nightstand, he cancelled the alarm and settled back, enjoying the warmth of the body lying half on top of him. After all, it was a Saturday, and although he fully intended to go in to the PD later on, Blair had no responsibilities at the U, so there was no need for him to be dragged out of bed for a while longer. Jim had no doubt that his young partner would insist on accompanying him anyway, but in the meantime there was no reason why he shouldn’t relax a little. 

Jim smiled as he contemplated his lover, content to scan and take pleasure in the lax body, since it was so rare for him to see Blair boneless like this. For sure, he wasn’t ever completely still, unless drugged or in a coma, and the gods knew Jim didn’t want to witness that distressing sight ever again. But he did twitch and mutter to himself, apparently unable to keep silent even when asleep, but the actions were endearing as far as Jim was concerned, rather than irritating. And when Blair draped himself over his bigger lover’s body like this, Jim just had to smile in satisfaction. With one arm around Jim’s waist, and a leg thrown across his thighs, Blair’s head rested on Jim’s broad chest, his face snuggled against the sentinel’s neck. 

Raising one arm carefully, Jim caressed the curly head with a barely-there touch, thoroughly enjoying the moment and fingering the silky curls with delight. Blair would never have it, but Jim insisted that his lover’s smaller body was beautiful. Just because he wasn’t buff and built like Jim didn’t mean that he was unattractive; far from it in Jim’s not-so-humble opinion; and when he got the opportunity to study it at his leisure, he was going to take it. 

Smiling softly, Jim continued to scan his guide, opening his senses to the max in order to make the most of the unexpected treat, and knowing that the young man’s presence was all he needed to ground him and keep him safe. It had been a long time since he had zoned, but he knew that he would always want Blair at his side when he used them, simply because it was so very much easier to do so. 

His smile fading a little, he recalled their love-making the night before. They had both been despondent on their return from the hospital, saying little, but clinging to each other in order to share as much comfort as they could. As soon as he had locked up, Jim had taken his lover by the hand and led him upstairs, there to undress him with the utmost care and gentleness. And when they were both naked and lying together on their big bed, he had made the most exquisite love to his partner until Blair was almost reduced to tears of love and gratitude for his partner’s consideration. And when he had reciprocated, he and Jim had come together in an unutterably wondrous climax, comforted and sated enough to be able to sleep the deep and dreamless sleep of the truly blessed. 

However, much as he was enjoying the moment, Jim knew he would soon have to get up, and minute changes in Blair’s physiological responses told him that his lover was waking also. And a scant few minutes later, Blair eased back enough for one bleary eye to peel open, peering myopically up into Jim’s grinning face. 

“Hey, babe, good morning!” Jim murmured fondly, delighting in the scowling, beard-stubbled face before him. Even with his hair every which way, Blair still managed to look cute, and his customary grumpy-butt response elicited a chuckle from his unsympathetic partner. 

“Hmmfff… m’up. Wa’s so funny?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, babe,” Jim laughed. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?” 

He ‘oofed’ as an elbow jabbed him in the side, unable to stop grinning even when his glowering guide pushed himself inelegantly into a sitting position. Much more alert now, Blair still wasn’t his cheerful, energetic self, and wouldn’t be until he’d had at least two large mugs of coffee, and Jim knew it. 

“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the guide,” Blair sulked. “We can’t all look like Adonis first thing in the morning!” 

Grabbing the smaller man around the waist, Jim quickly pushed him onto his back and covered him with his own body, dropping his head to claim a kiss. And he didn’t let up until he felt Blair relax beneath him again, raising his head so he could study his lover’s slightly unfocussed, blissed-out expression. 

“That answer your question, lover?” Jim asked, his own gaze nothing but appreciative and affectionate; immensely gratified when Blair blushed a little bashfully and peeked up at him from beneath thick lashes. 

“Yeah, guess so, Big Guy,” his lover replied. “Thanks, Jim. But I guess we need to move, huh? Get ready to go in to the PD?” 

“No hurry, babe,” Jim replied, holding out a hand to help Blair to his feet. “We can have a decent breakfast first, because Simon’s not expecting us until 9.00 am.” 

“Works for me,” Blair responded with a much more genuine grin, and with that they made their way downstairs hand in hand, and on reaching the bottom, Jim went to the kitchen to put the coffee on, while Blair hit the bathroom; both men eager now to face the day.   


\--------------------------  


While Jim was taking his turn in the shower, Blair set about preparing their breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast. Since they had a little more time this morning, he wanted to make sure his lover had a good start to the day, especially since he had been so good to Blair the previous evening. In a way, Blair felt a little guilty about the amount of comforting Jim had lavished on him over the past few days, even though Jim insisted that it was the way good partnerships worked, and that it all balanced out at the end of the day. Blair told himself that it was the truth, even though he still felt that he was getting the lion’s share right now. 

Humming to himself, he reached for the remote and turned on the TV at the News Channel. Normally they were in too much of a rush to bother with listening to what was mostly inane crap, but since they had a more leisurely start, he decided that at least they could catch up on the bits that were actually of some importance. Like the weather forecast, for instance. Not that he trusted it as much as his personal, organic weather detector, however. 

A short while later, both men pushed away their empty plates, satisfied grins on their faces. 

“Thanks, babe, that hit the spot!” Jim murmured, smiling at his pleased lover. “I think I’m ready for pretty much anything now!” 

Blair’s answering grin was wide. “Yeah, sure, lover! But you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do—” 

However, his comment tailed off abruptly as his attention was suddenly caught by the breaking newsflash running along the bottom of the TV screen, and he reached out a shaking hand to grip Jim’s arm. 

“Oh man! Jim! _Look!_ ” and he pointed at the screen. 

Jim followed his lover’s shocked gaze, and his jaw dropped as he read the scrolling script. 

The son of a prominent local businessman had been killed in a road accident the previous evening, the cause of which was as yet unknown. 

But his identity was. Anton Leitner was dead.  


\------------------------  


With all thoughts of a leisurely start to the day instantly forgotten, Jim and Blair hastily rinsed their breakfast dishes and grabbed coats and keys, now needing to get to the office as quickly as possible. By mutual agreement they took Jim’s truck, and as he drove, Jim cast occasional glances over at his silent passenger. Blair was still pale with shock, the tension lines around eyes and mouth testament to his anxiety level. 

“You OK over there, Chief?” Jim couldn’t help but ask. “You look taut enough to snap!” 

Blair returned his gaze, forcing himself to relax slightly. “I’m sorry, Jim. Man, I’m just so…so… _shaken_ I guess. It’s so what I’d never have anticipated. And I gotta say, man, that I’m also feeling ashamed of myself. I mean, I’d be some sort of hypocrite if I said I was sorry he’s dead. So what does that make me?” 

“Human, babe,” Jim replied firmly. “Just like me and I’d imagine everyone else who’s ever been shafted by that rich little prick! I’d just like to know how it happened, is all. ‘Did he fall, or was he pushed’, you know? Because if he did it all by himself by accident then I’m going to start truly believing in karma, babe!” 

Somewhat surprised by the vehemence in Jim’s declaration, Blair studied him in silence for a moment. 

“You know what, Jim? You’re right, man. I always fancy myself as being a peace-maker, you know? But I’m glad he’s dead. I just can’t help it. And if that’s wrecked _my_ karma, so be it!” 

Jim nodded in agreement and concentrated on his driving, and they were soon pulling into his usual space in the PD’s underground parking garage. Jumping out of the truck, Jim locked it up and then both men headed for the elevators, intent on finding out as much about Leitner’s untimely demise as possible.   


\-------------------------  


Their first port of call was the MCU bullpen, because they wanted to check in with Simon first. The big captain regarded them speculatively before sending them on their way to Homicide with a word of encouragement. “I heard all about the Leitner kid’s death, so I guessed you’d both be wanting to follow it up with the guys in Homicide first, so off you go. Come back and see me when you’ve got some information, OK? Hopefully this’ll be the end of the case as far as your involvement is concerned, even if it can’t be closed officially yet. Looks like Justice has been done whatever.” 

Nodding and expressing their gratitude for his understanding, the pair set off for Homicide, hoping against hope that there were a few more facts available now. They were met at the door to the bullpen by Bill and Leroy, who were both looking grim but with an unmistakably exultant air also. 

Ushering Jim and Blair over to Frank Nairns’ office, Bill chuckled wickedly as he commented, “Whaddya know, guys? There is a God, huh? Or perhaps this is the devil’s work. Seems to me it couldn’t have happened to a nicer kid. And if we’re lucky, we’ll get to close both cases. Can but hope!” 

As soon as the four men were seated, Frank Nairns pulled a folder towards him, a smirk of satisfaction on his narrow features. “Thought you’d be in as soon as word got around, Jim, Blair,” he greeted them with a bleak smile. “Can’t say I blame you. It’s not often that the bad guy manages to do our jobs for us, in a manner of speaking. Saving taxpayers’ money too. But anyway, this is the latest from Traffic, so I’m happy to share. 

“According to eye witnesses – who just happened to be the kid’s supposed protection detail - seems that our Anton visited the family mansion up on Cascade Heights yesterday afternoon. And whatever happened there, he took off like a bat out of hell, and left his minders eating his dust, trying to catch up. Apparently he took the coast road, driving like a maniac, and approaching Eagle Point, he took the bend too sharp. Ended up on the wrong side of the road with an oncoming RV in his face. So he swerved to avoid it, and crashed through the barrier and landed upside down on the beach below. 

“Anyhow, he’s most definitely dead, guys, and although we don’t know yet whether there’s drugs or alcohol involved until Dan Wolf finishes up the autopsy and gets the Toxicology results, I think we can safely guess Cause of Death. 

“So, this is what I’m thinking. I know we haven’t got concrete evidence yet of his extra-mural activities, but I’m still of the same mind; that Dr Sandburg was on the right track all along. So what I propose it is this. I can’t in all honesty commandeer your time any longer, Jim, because I know full well that Simon’s got his hands full in keeping Major Crimes up and running at maximum capacity. But I’m going to let Bill and Leroy here continue to work the case as much as they can, keeping their ears to the ground to see what the grapevine’ll turn up. Someone, somewhere will know what was going down at that meeting, and eventually we’ll find out. 

“As for the Koreans, I’m afraid we’ll just have to play it by ear. I’m not holding out that much hope that we’ll ever get them extradited, but at least we have their IDs now, and they’ll never set foot in the US again. It’s not the conclusion we might have hoped for, but perhaps it’ll be enough for the survivors. 

“So, Ms Larkin can go home, and Ms McAlister, God willing, can rest assured that her attackers will never be seen in the good old US of A again. Not that it’ll be much comfort to her yet, I dare say. 

“But I think we can also draw a line under the Sandra Dee murder too, which might bring closure to someone somewhere, huh? 

“So, I’ll just say thanks, gentlemen. To all of you. We’ve done good work, and if Fate has had a hand in it, well, it’s about time!” and with that he rose to his feet and ushered them out, his satisfaction genuine, but it was obvious that his mind was already on other matters. As Simon had said, Cascade’s criminals never seemed to take a break, which is why the PD perpetually ran at full speed ahead, 24/7. 

Once outside their boss’ office, the four men shook hands, but this time it was Leroy who spoke up first. “Thanks again, Jim, Blair. I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but I know you’ll know what I really mean. I’m sorry that we have no concrete conclusion yet, but we’ll work on getting it, I promise. And it’s thanks to you in particular, Blair, for sending us off in the right direction in the first place. We’ll keep you updated, for sure, I can promise you that. 

“So, see you around, guys!” and with genuine, if somewhat sad grins, they parted company; Bill and Leroy to follow up as best they could, and Jim and Blair to return to MCU, where for sure there were cases awaiting Jim’s attention. SOP in a Cascade cop’s world. 

And in his devoted guide’s also.   


\--------------------------  


**Three months later, the loft:**  


Blair put the cordless phone back in its cradle and turned to face Jim, a wide smile on his face. He had just had another lengthy conversation with Jenny, and by his expression, Jim knew that it was good news. 

“Hey, babe, you’re looking happy. Jenny doing OK then?” he asked, his interest genuine, as Blair well knew. 

“Yeah, Jim. I spoke to Jude also, and she confirmed it, so I know it’s not just Jenny trying to put my mind at rest. She’s way too good at that, bless her! 

“Anyhow, health-wise Jenny’s pretty much back to normal. After she kicked that infection into touch, we both saw how she fought back after all, and according to Jude, as soon as they got her transferred to the hospital in Tacoma, her physical improvement continued just fine. 

“Of course, she’s still getting counselling, and that’ll no doubt continue for some time, for as long as she needs it. But both Jude and Jenny herself say that she’s getting mentally stronger day by day, and her studies give her the goal she needs to distract her on her down days.” 

His face fell then as he continued a little more sadly, “I don’t know whether she’ll ever be up to coming back to Rainier, though, even though she says she still wants to. And wants to be my student helper, go figure! But there’s absolutely no reason why she won’t get that Master’s. Our online teaching and distance learning programme is working really well, and the thesis chapters she’s completed so far are great, Jim. I’m so proud of her!” 

Jim smiled fondly at his partner, feeling pretty proud himself for everything Jenny had achieved, and especially for the part his lover had played in her recovery. He knew that Jenny’s parents’ support had been exceptional, but so had Blair’s. The young man had become an incredible cheerleader as well as dedicated teacher, and Jim was gratified to witness the results. 

“And so you should be, babe,” he replied, moving to sit beside his lover and give him a warm, one-armed hug. “But just remember that she’s had a great backup team to help, and you’re a big part of that. 

“Talking of which, have you heard from Amber lately? How’s she getting along?” 

Blair smiled at him, knowing that Jim’s interest in that young woman was genuine also, although maybe for different reasons. When she had been released from witness protection, Amber had insisted on going to visit Jenny as soon as she was allowed, wanting to both see how the young woman was doing, and also to apologise profusely for her part in unwittingly setting the whole mistaken assault in motion. She had told Jenny that she intended to get as far away from Rainier as possible, but her young ex-roommate had had something to say about that. Although still desperately weak, she had scolded Amber for even thinking of running away, such that Amber had decided to stay after all. She had told Blair that it was as much for Jenny as for her own pride, but her dream of being a doctor was still alive, and she was even more determined now to make it happen. 

And apparently her studies were going really well now, as she had told Blair only a day or so ago. She had also told him that it was attributable as much to his encouragement as to Jenny’s, and that she would be forever grateful. 

Of course, Blair was way too self-effacing to take the credit, but Jim knew better, and also knew that he would continue to work on his lover’s lack of self-esteem for as long as it took. Blair was never going to be egotistical, but Jim would prefer that he had a more reasonable understanding of his real worth, especially as guide to a very grateful sentinel. 

As they sat together in companionable silence for a few minutes, both men wrapped up in their own thoughts, Jim couldn’t help but compare his gentle lover’s lack of ego to that spoilt, self-centred Leitner kid, and that led him to contemplate what developments had been made on that case. 

As promised, Bill and Leroy had kept Jim and Blair in the loop as far as the assault case and Leitner’s probable part in it was concerned, and had also passed on what they had found out about the accident. They were disappointed to report that up until now they still had no concrete evidence of his involvement, and naturally his grieving family were saying nothing. But the word on the street was very illuminating, and they had been glad to share. 

Their various sources had told them all about Leitner’s prostitution schemes; some with no little relish that the kid had gotten his comeuppance; and had also confirmed his contacts with Seoul. And they had also learned about the contract the Korean godfather had taken out on Leitner, and his reason for doing so. Apparently one of Marco Leone’s goons had been given the go-ahead to apply a painful, but not lethal punishment, but had never gotten the chance. And one of Leitner’s own minders had reported that the family confrontation had been hostile enough to infuriate Anton, although he wasn’t aware of the content. 

Unsurprisingly, the autopsy had confirmed that cause of death was from multiple traumas, and that it would have been almost instantaneous. There was also alcohol in Leitner’s bloodstream, which, although above the legal limit, probably wasn’t enough to affect his reactions overmuch. The coroner’s inquest concluded that it was accidental death caused by dangerous driving, and whether there was any suggestion of attempted suicide was nothing more than conjecture. But in his heart of hearts, Jim didn’t believe that for a moment. The arrogant little prick was just burning off his fury because of something that had gone on between him and his family, and it was his own stupid fault that his driving skills hadn’t been up to it. Hallelujah! 

Shaking himself out of his brief reverie, he turned to face his lover, an affectionate grin on his handsome face. 

“OK, then, babe, so it’s Saturday, and it’s not raining. Fancy a trip to the Forest for a bit of hiking? And then I’d like to take you to dinner. My treat.” 

Blair’s answering smile lit up his whole face, and Jim was momentarily stunned by his guide’s radiant beauty. “Oh, man, that’d be great! We haven’t had time to ourselves for ages, and it’ll be like going on a date. What did I do to deserve it?” 

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, babe. Just being you,” Jim answered with a soft smile. “And before the sap starts rising too fast, let’s get going, want to?” and he rose to his feet, holding out a hand to his lover to help him up. 

Blair chuckled happily, his love for his sentinel making his beautiful blue eyes glow in adoration. 

“Oh, yeah, lover. Lead on, My Sentinel. Whither thou goest, and all that!” 

And a profoundly contented and amorous Jim knew that his beloved Guide meant every word.  


**The End**


End file.
